n  tr 


_ 


By  JAMES  TERRY  WHITE 
FLOWERS  FROM  ARCADIA 
CAPTIVE  MEMORIES 
FOR  LOVERS  AND  OTHERS 

CHARACTER  LESSONS  FROM  AMERICAN  BIOGRAPHY 
A  GARDEN  OF  REMEMBRANCE 


A  Garden  of 

Remembrance 


By 


JAMES  TERRY  WHITE 


NEW  YORK 

JAMES  T.  WHITE  &  CO. 

1918 


ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

Grateful  acknowledgment  is  made  to  the  respective 
Publishers  for  permission  to  use  the  verses,  which  are 
reprinted  from  The  Century,  Harper's  Monthly,  Mun- 
sey*s,  Ainslee's,  Independent,  Smart  Set,  Christian 
Register,  New  York  Observer,  Boston  Transcript,  New 
York  Sun,  Springfield  Republican,  Pacific  Unitarian, 
Art  World,  and  other  periodicals. 


COPYRIGHT  1917 
BY  JAMES  T.  WHITE  &  Co. 


TS 

3174- 


APPRECIATION 


"For  one  star  differeth  from  another  star  in  glory." 
Not  all  writers  of  verse  make  the  same  appeal  to  the 
same  public.  That  which  to  some  is  strong  meat,  or 
perhaps  a  savoury  tidbit,  is  to  others  caviare.  It 
cannot  be  gainsaid  that  in  these  days  there  are  many 
carvers  and  polishers  of  cherrystones,  but  if  the  results 
are  good  who  shall  proclaim  the  labor  valueless?  It  is 
never  safe  to  prophesy  that  this  or  that  writer  will  be 
remembered  and  read  in  the  far-reaching  future.  Her- 
rick,  whom  our  author  resembles  in  his  joy  of  life  and 
May-time  spirit,  has  come  safely  down  the  stream  of 
time  in  a  tiny  shallop,  while  the  producer  of  many 
a  ponderous  epic  has  been  engulfed  beneath  the  tide. 
That  the  poems  contained  in  this  little  volume  are  not 
great,  in  the  sense  that  they  are  either  epical  or  epochal, 
no  one  will  more  readily  concede  than  their  unassum 
ing  author  ;  but  that  there  are  numerous  s*weet  and 
tender  verses  here,  all  of  them  informed  with  genuine 
lyrical  fire,  few  who  read  them  will  deny.  In  the  house 
of  song  there  are  many  mansions  —  some  for  the  "mighty 
mouth'd  inventors  of  harmonies,"  like  the  "organ- 
voiced"  Milton,  and  some  for  those  who  breathe  their 
delicate  melodies  through  oaten  straws.  Not  all  of  us 
would  wish  to  sit  forever  listening  to  the  tremendous 
music  of  the  sea  ;  now  and  then  a  weary  spirit  loves 


626174 


to  loiter  by  the  brookside  and  hearken  to  the  chiming 
of  its  fairy  bells.  So  this  unpretentious  book  needs  no 
excuse  for  its  being.  It  has  the  flavor  of  the  day  of 
Suckling,  or  Sydney,  and  the  singer  plays  upon  the 
chords  of  the  heart  with  rare  touch ;  the  delicacy  of  the 
verse  reminds  one  of  the  exquisite  ivory  of  old 
miniatures.  Such  lyrics  as  "Gentle  Shepherdess  of 
Sheep,"  "The  Thought  of  You,"  "Sympathy,"  and 
"Elusive  Happiness"  will  linger  long  in  the  memory. 
If  we  mistake  not,  musical  composers  will  find  here  a 
veritable  mine  of  suggestions — and  indeed  many  of 
these  songs  have  already  received  a  musical  setting. 
The  attentive  reader  will  easily  recall  such  unforgettable 
lines  as — 

"Like  violets  in  an  unexpected  place." 

"And  why  should  life  the  future  dread? 
Love  now  hath  immortality." 

"A  blessedness  that  far  outweighs 
The  unforgotten  pain," 

and  there  are  many  others  equally  quotable.  The  poems 
of  a  religious  cast  are  characterized  by  a  gravity  and 
beauty  of  expression  well  befitting  the  solemn  nature 
of  their  theme.  But  enough.  The  door  is  open.  Let 
those  who  will,  enter  in. 

JAMES  B.  KENYON. 


CONTENTS. 

APPRECIATION     V 

A  GARDEN  OF  REMEMBRANCE. 

PROEM      13 

THE  THOUGHT  OF   YOU    15 

A  TRYST  WITH  SPRING 16 

BETWEEN    MY    THOUGHT    AND    THEE    17 

BETWEEN    THESE    LEAVES     18 

WHEN    LOVE   AND    I    WENT    MAYING     19 

THE    FIRST    KISS    19 

THE   WHOLE   OF   LIFE    20 

THE    FULLNESS    OF    DAYS     20 

DREAMS      21 

REMEMBRANCE    21 

MY  FIRST  SWEETHEART   22 

WHAT'S  IN  A  NAME  22 

LARGESSE    23 

THE  WILDERNESS  WERE  PARADISE  ENOW   23 

THE  SONG  WITHOUT  WORDS   24 

FROM  A  ROSEBUD   25 

ASTRAY     26 

A    MEMORY    OF    ITALY    27 

THE    POET    SINGS     28 

REVISITED     29 

THE    FLOWERS    OF    JUNE    30 

WHENCE  IS  THIS   FRAGRANCE  ? 30 

ONLY  AN  IVY  LEAF 31 

CAN  I  FORGET  ?    32 

THE  UNIVERSAL   PRAYER    33 

THERE  ISN'T  ANY  ONE  TO  PLAY  WITH  ANY  MORE 35 

ONLY   A   LITTLE   WHILE    36 

THREE    ANGELS     37 

HOPE    DEFERRED    37 

THE    UNFORGOTTEN    PAIN     38 

WITH   LOVE  FORGOT    38 

MEMORIES    OF    CORTINA    39 

THANKSGIVING     .  40 


SYMPATHY 41 

NOT   FOR   ONE   ONLY    41 

I/ENVOI    42 

IN    SA'DI'S   ROSE   GARDEN. 

TO    HOLD    FAST    MEMORY    44 

IN    SA'Dl'S    ROSE    GARDEN     45 

I.  DOTH    FRAGRANCE    VANISH    WITH    THE    ROSE?  45 

II.  A  BREATH   OF   HEALING 46 

III.  EACH    MORN   A   THOUSAND   ROSES   BRINGS 46 

IV.  A   GARDEN    WRAITH     47 

V.  UNFULFILLED   DESIRE 48 

VI.  THY    PERFUMED    HEART     49 

VII.  SEND    ME   A   ROSE    50 

VIII.  A  PHANTOM   OF   DELIGHT    50 

IX.  NOT  BY  BREAD  ALONE 51 

X.  COMPANIONSHIP 51 

XI.  THE  WORTH  OF  A  FRIEND 52 

XII.  A  GIFT  OF  FLOWERS 52 

ELUSIVE  HAPPINESS    53 

THE  BIRTH  OF  AFFECTION  54 

SHE  GAVE  ME  A  ROSE  55 

PROPOSAL    56 

SHIPS  THAT  PASS  IN  THE  NIGHT  56 

A  SUPPLIANT  57 

IN  SPRING'S  DISGUISE  58 

THE  CLUE   58 

MY  FRIEND  59 

CAMARADERIE    60 

SONG     61 

THE  JOY  OF  LOVING    62 

BEAUTY    63 

YET  SHE  HEARS  NOT  64 

LOVE'S  RECOMPENSE 65 

L'ENVOI   66 

IN  ARCADY. 

TO  ARCADY   HAST   NEVER  BEEN  ?    68 


POETRY      69 

THE  TRANSFORMATION   70 

SOMEBODY    70 

THE  BLUE  BIRD  71 

THE  BLUE  BIRD'S  RETURN  72 

THOU  SHALT  CALL  AND  I  WILL  ANSWER 73 

COMPLAINT  TO  SPRING  74 

SPRING'S  RETURN   75 

ADMIRATION  76 

WHEN  IT  IS  DAY  76 

REFUSAL     77 

THY   FACE    77 

EXILED  FROM  LOVE  78 

ONLY  THE  SONG  78 

WHEN  LOVE  IS  DONE  79 

AUF  WIEDERSEHEN  79 

"SEND  FOR  ME" 80 

THE  ECHO  OF  A  SONG  81 

THE  SNOW  IS  IN  MY  HAIR  82 

JUNE  IN  CORTINA   83 

ABSENCE    84 

THE   UNATTAINED 84 

TO  KNOW  LOVE  CARETH    STILL    85 

LOVE'S    SONG    SINGS    EVER     85 

ENTREATY    ' 86 

MARRIAGE      87 

EPITHALAMIUM      88 

PATERNITY     89 

BIRTHDAY     90 

MORE  TO  BE  DESIRED  THAN  GOLD    91 

CHRISTMAS      92 

TRUE  PATRIOTISM    93 

NEW    YEAR    94 

MUSIC  IN  THE  AIR  95 

L'ENVOI   96 

AFTERGLOW. 

THE    SYMBOL     .  98 


CONSIDER  THE  LILIES    99 

WHAT  THE  CHILD-SOUL  SAID  TO  THE  MOTHER 100 

WHY    FEAR  ?     101 

EASTER     103 

A  WHISPER  OF  HEAVEN 104 

THEN  COMETH   THE   NIGHT 104 

THE  CALL  OF  THE  SEA 105 

SINGING    HARP-STRINGS     106 

A   BRIDAL   SONG    106 

HEAVEN    IS    HERE    107 

THE   DIVINE    SECRET    108 

THE  VISION  FROM  THE  HEIGHTS    109 

THE  MOUNTAINS  ARE  HIS  TEMPLE 110 

THE  NEW  DAWN    Ill 

AN   EASTER   THOUGHT    112 

HEAVEN  ENFOLDS   US  ALL 112 

IN  HIS  SERVICE 112 

LOVE  IS  THE  FULFILLING  OF  THE  LAW    113 

SUFFER  THE  CHILDREN 114 

A  GOLDEN  WEDDING 115 

THE  MASTER  SAITH    116 

LOVE'S   ETERNAL  TROTH    117 

EYE  HATH  NOT  SEEN 118 

BE    YE   COMFORTED    119 

TRUST    120 

PARTING     121 

TRANSLATIONS    122 

THE  FEET  OF  CLAY  123 

"AND  KEEP  THE  DOOR  AJAR"  123 

BEYOND  THE  WALL   124 

IF  HEARTS  ARE  DUST 125 

LIFE  MAY  HAVE  NEED  OF  DEATH 126 

HOPE    127 

HOLD  THOU   MY   HANDS    128 

EVENTIDE     129 

THE    CALLING    VOICES     130 

SUNSET    131 

L'ENVOI     .132 


A  GARDEN   OF  REMEMBRANCE 

"The  heart  is  a  garden;  remembrance  is  its  sweetest 
flower." 


PROEM 

SINGER  sitting  in  the  sun 
Found  that  the  gift  of  love  outweighs 
All  others  when  the  day  is  done, 
And  is  the  only  joy  that  stays. 

Because  his  soul's  affections  stir, 

To  him  the  rose  but  typified 
The  charm  and  loveliness  of  her 

Whose  beauty  blessed  and  satisfied. 

He  knew  love's  tender  touch  and  "Hail," 
That  turn  earth's  mournful  sigh  to  smile; 

He  saw  the  vision  of  the  Grail, 
And  so  he  sang  of  love,  the  while. 

He  felt  that  in  the  ordered  round 

Of  Nature,  life  is  incomplete, 
If  soul  is  by  no  Future  crowned, 

And  so  this  hope  his  songs  repeat. 

He  strove  on  chords  of  tenderness 

To  play,  if  haply  he  who  hears 
May  find  a  quiet  happiness 

That  banishes  regret  and  tears. 

Though  in  the  structure  of  his  lays 

There  be  no  minaret  nor  spire, 
IVithin,  the  incense  and  the  praise 

May  quicken  all  the  soul's  desire. 


These  songs  keep  whispering  in  my  ear, 

From  every  bird  and  rill  and  tree, 
Of  memories  so  sweet  and  dear, 
I  needs  must  strive,  with  smile  and  tear, 
To  tempt  them  to  captivity. 

Bound  into  verse,  they  are  the  fee 

Most  willingly  my  glad  heart  pays 
Unto  the  boatman,  Memory, 
Who  ferries  me  o'er  time  to  thee, 
The  inspiration  of  my  lays. 


THE  THOUGHT  OF  YOU 

I  THOUGHT  of  you; 
What  wireless  voices  of  the  air 
Insistent  beat  upon  my  ear, 
Till,  somehow,  I  am  made  aware 
Of  you.  and  know  that  you  are  near, 
Because  I  thought  of  you. 

I  think  of  you; 
And  the  sweet  thought  a  fragrance  lends 

To  every  place  where  I  may  be ; 
So  sweet — I  know  that  it  portends 
That  you  are  thinking,  too,  of  me, 
The  while  I  think  of  you. 

I  think  of  you ; 
And  I  forget  life's  sordid  whirl, 

The  thwarted  hope,  the  baffled  aim, 
In  the  enjoyment  of  that  Pearl 
Beyond  the  price  of  wealth  and  fame, 
I  have  received  from  you. 

The  thought  of  you — 
Fond  memories  and  hopes  it  blends ; 

From  sore  dejection  keeps  me  free; 
It  for  your  absence  makes  amends 
To  know  that  you  still  think  of  me, 
And  wake  my  thought  of  you. 


15 


My  thought  of  you — 
Even  love  not  more  of  joy  reveals 

Unto  my  heart;  and  is  love  aught 
But  what  the  heart  perceives  and  feels, 
And  then  makes  captive  to  the  thought — 
As  mine  enfoldeth  you? 


A  TRYST  WITH   SPRING 

THERE  is  magic  in  the  sunshine, 
There's  a  spell  in  every  breeze ; 
There's  a  call  in  leaf  and  blossom 

For  a  tryst  with  flowers  and  trees, 
And  a  witchery  of  fragrance 

Breathes  enchantment  on  the  air. 
Is  the  lure,  the  flowers  and  fragrance? 
Or,  the  hope  to  find  you  there? 


16 


BETWEEN  MY  THOUGHT  AND  THEE 

THE  past  hath  boasted  of  its  wonders  seven; 
The  present  hath  its  marvels  yet  more  fair, 
Of  wireless  bridges  of  the  sentient  air, 
Of  foaming  torrents  spanned  and  mountains  riven; 

But  I  have  reared  a  structure,  rarer  even, 

That  reaches  to  the  skies — an  ethereal  stair, 
Whose  deep  foundations  rest  upon  my  care — 

The  bridge  between  my  thought  and  thee  and  Heaven. 

Vain  boast,  that  I  this  marvel  have  achieved; 

Such  graceful  shafts  of  beauty  I  ne'er  planned, 
Such  arches,  with  their  golden  pillars,  sheaved 

Of  sunshine,  and  with  loveliness  o'er-spanned, 
And  towers  of  blessedness — I  ne'er  conceived; 

Nay,  nayl    I  builded  not,  it  was  thy  hand. 


17 


BETWEEN  THESE  LEAVES 

BETWEEN  these  leaves  a  fruitage  grows, 
Which  in  perpetual  sunshine  glows; 
It  cheers  the  heart,  dries  tear-filled  eyes, 
And  with  a  breath  of  Paradise 
Scents  every  breeze  that  through  them  blows. 

Besides  this  harvest  which  bestows 
On  all  refreshment  and  respose, 
For  you,  another  hidden  lies 
Between  these  leaves : — 

Friendship,  untouched  by  winter  snows ; 
Ripened  affection  that  outgrows 

This  earthly  clime,  and  death  defies ; 

And  memories — these  but  comprise 
A  tithe  of  what  my  thoughts  enclose 
Between  these  leaves. 


WHEN  LOVE  AND  I  WENT  MAYING 

WHEN  Love  and  I  went  maying,  all  ablaze 
With  beauty  were  the  woods,  and  blooming  sprays 
Dropped  showers  of  petaled  sweetness  on  the  air. 
I  never  knew  the  world  could  be  so  fair, 
Or  that  the  May  could  pipe  such  tuneful  lays. 

And  heart  and  soul  were  lost  in  such  a  maze 
Of  happiness,  that  evening's  purple  haze 
Stole  down  on  that  fair  day,  all  unaware, 
When  Love  and  I  went  maying. 

I  said  to  Love,  "Let  us  not  part;  our  ways 
Are  one."    Love  looked  at  me  with  wistful  gaze, 
And  answered,  "Where  thou  farest  I  will  fare." 
And  Love  has  kept  through  life  that  promised  care ; 
But  memory  treasures  still  those  perfumed  days, 
When  Love  and  I  went  maying. 

THE  FIRST  KISS 

IS  touch  of  lips  all  of  a  kiss? 
It  is  a  touch  of  hearts,  a  thought 
Of  heaven,  a  golden  woof  of  bliss 

Into  life's  homely  warp  enwrought. 
Thereafter,  life  is  never  quite  the  same; 
That  thread  of  gold  embroiders  it  with  flame. 


19 


THE  WHOLE  OF  LIFE 

TO  some  a  little  thing  love  seems ; 
To  me  it  is  the  whole  of  life's  pursuit, 
The  only  inspiration  of  my  lute; 
Love  opens  vistas  of  delights, 
Leads  me  to  unimagined  heights 
Of  happiness,  and  vouchsafes  gleams 
That  lift  my  thoughts  to  lovelier  dreams ; 

It  brings  new  ravishment 
From  ever  fresh  displays  of  charm  and  grace, 

Like  the  enticing  scent 
Of  violets  in  an  unexpected  place. 


THE  FULLNESS  OF  DAYS 

NO  longer  uneventful  are  my  days; 
So  full  are  they  of  pageants  of  the  past, 
So  crowded  with  sweet  thoughts  that  tune  my  lays, 
So  redolent  of  a  remembered  rose 
That  blossomed  in  youth's  garden — and  still  blows — 
Each   day  seems  more  transcendent   than  'the 
last. 


20 


DREAMS 

GENTLE  shepherdess  of  dreams, 
From  the  vales  of  singing  streams, 
From  the  mountains  of  delight, 
Gather  in  my  heart  to-night 
All  the  scattered  flocks  of  bliss, 
Folded  in  love's  fostering  kiss ! 
Pastured  thus  in  memory, 
Why  should  I  seek  Arcady? 

Let  me  send,  sweet  friend,  to  you 
Garlanded  with  violets  blue, 

These  dear  waifs — if  haply  they 

In  your  memory  may  stay. 
As  they  crowd  about  your  feet, 
Heed  your  footsteps,  I  entreat, 

And  step  lightly,  as  beseems, 

Lest  you  tread  upon  love's  dreams. 


REMEMBRANCE 

IS  there  in  your  "heart's  garden" 
Remembrance  of  a  rose 
That  still  persists  in  blooming, 
Despite  of  winter  snows? 


21 


MY    FIRST   SWEETHEART 

YEARS  cannot  dull  the  thoughts  I  hold 
Of  days  when  at  her  side  was  heaven; 
But  she  was  only  twelve  years  old, 
And  I — I  was  not  yet  eleven. 

Though  sunset's  sheen  is  in  her  hair, 
The  dew  of  morning  yet  remains ; 

And  still,  of  time  all  unaware, 
Her  heart  the  bloom  of  youth  retains. 

Her  hands  still  keep  their  'customed  zeal — 
Such  kindly  hands  that  never  knew, 

So  stirred  with  their  desire  to  heal, 
That  aught  were  easier  to  do. 

Yet  with  the  change,  I  only  see 

That  little  girl  of  long  ago, 
Feel  her  responsive  lips — ah  me! 

Can  age  the  bliss  of  youth  outgrow! 


WHAT'S  IN  A  NAME? 

ENTANGLED  in  these  simple,  singing  chimes 
Lingers  a  memory  of  olden  times, 
Lost  for  a  while,  but  later  found  again; 
Enshrined  within  my  mind  and  heart,  my  pen 
Needs  but  her  name  to  beautify  the  rhymes. 

22 


LARGESSE 

WHY  is  it  thoughts  of  her  take  wing 
In  every  place? 

That  in  my  heart  the  birds  all  sing? 
That  lovely  objects  ever  bring 

To  me  her  face, 

To  which  new  charms  and  beauty  cling 
With  added  grace? 

And  when  I  seek  love's  blessedness 

To  realize, 

'Tis  not  that  I  her  heart  possess, 
It  is  in  my  own  love's  largesse 

The  great  joy  lies — 
That  I  myself  may  love  and  bless, 

And  kiss  her  eyes. 

THE   WILDERNESS    WERE    PARADISE   ENOW 

THE  nightingale  all  through  the  night 
Responsive  sings  with  silver  throat, 
But  how  can  I  sweet  songs  indite, 
Without  an  answering  note? 

Sometimes  I  dream  the  bird  has  flown, 
So  deep  and  lone  the  silence  reigns; 
Yet,  how  can  I  e'er  be  alone, 
When  memory  remains? 

— Set  to  music  by  Lisa  Lehman. 
23 


THE   SONG   WITHOUT   WORDS 

LURED  by  conspiring  skies  and  breeze, 
We  strolled  beneath  remembered  trees, 
To  take  our  last  farewell. 
The  witching  stillness  of  the  wood 
Made  even  silence  understood, 
So  much  we  dared  not  tell ; 

For  now  the  time  had  come  to  part, 
And  that  we  both  possessed  a  heart 

Alas  1  we  had  forgot. 
We  looked  into  each  other's  eyes, 
And  both  saw  there  the  Paradise 

Forbidden  to  our  lot. 

Yet  heart  clasped  heart  and  lip  met  lip, 
In  seal  of  soul's  companionship, 

Forgetting  'twas  farewell. 
Then  coming  from  I  know  not  where 
A  song  filled  all  the  summer  air, 

And  bound  me  in  its  spell. 

Was  it  a  bird  that  sang  that  song, 
Which  in  my  memory  has  dwelt  long, 

And  which  still  satisfies? 
Was  it  a  bird,  or  my  own  heart? 
For  now  it  seems  no  more  a  part 

Of  wood,  or  breeze,  or  skies. 


24 


Though  years  have  sped,  and  fate  ordains 
We  ne'er  shall  meet,  that  tryst  remains 

A  fadeless  immortelle; 
And  ever  in  my  heart  that  song 
Sings  on,  hope's  promise  to  prolong, 

Regardless  of  farewell. 


FROM  A  ROSEBUD 

WHO  from  a  rosebud  can  bring  forth  a  rose? 
Yet   cometh   one   with   a   song   and   a   smile, 
And  in  its  bosom  an  ecstasy  glows, 
Thrilling  its  heart  till  its  petals  unclose, 
And  with  its  fragrance  love-longings  beguile. 

Only  a  smile  and  a  song  I    But  wherein 
Lies  the  great  secret — the  key  to  this  power? 

Deeper  than  life  must  its  birth-throes  begin ; 

Soul  must  meet  soul  where  the  nebulae  spin; 
Hearts  must  be  one,  to  engender  love's  flower. 


25 


A 


ASTRAY 

KISS  is  but  a  fleeting  thing— 
A  singing  bird  upon  the  wing; 
And  yet,  remembered  through  the  years, 
Remembered  with  both  joy — and  tears. 


Tis  like  the  Alpine  gentian  flower; 

Though  seeming  born  but  for  an  hour, 
Its  roots  reach  to  the  Tyrol's  heart, 
And  take  of  its  immortal  part. 

Affection  loses  half  its  bliss, 
If  not  companioned  with  a  kiss ; 
And  life  is  lonely,  if  bereft 
Of  the  sweet  guerdon  love  has  left. 

The  kisses  that  keep  flowers  abloom 

In  life's  deserted,  empty  room, 

Too  rarely  to  the  heart  come  nigh 
For  one  to  lightly  pass  them  by. 

And  in  each  heart  there  is  a  grave, 
Where  bended  knees  forever  crave 
Some  alms  of  memory,  to  repay 
For  one  lost  kiss — that  went  astray. 

But  if  it  be  one  singing  bird 
Across  the  distance  still  is  heard, 

What  wraith  of  hopelessness  can  rise 
To  cloud  the  path  to  Paradise? 

26 


So,  though  it  be  a  fleeting  thing — 

A  singing  bird  upon  the  wing, 

Take  heed  it  goeth  not  astray, 

For  you  may  need  that  kiss  some  day. 


A  MEMORY  OF  ITALY 

IN  the  still  depths  of  her  clear  eyes 
I  see  Tyrolean  lakes  of  blue, 
And  know  not  whether  'tis  the  hue, 
Reflected  from  Italian  skies, 

Or   from  her  heart's  deep  tenderness. 
I  see  again  cathedral  heights 
New  tinted  with  a  glowing  sheen, 
And  know  not  whether  'tis  a  scene 
Remembered,  or  the  newer  lights 
Of  a  transfigured  happiness. 


27 


THE  POET  SINGS 

THE  poet  sings — perchance  of  woods  and  streams, 
And  the  poor  prisoner,  bound  in  city  walls, 
Forgets  the  bondage  of  his  lot,  and  dreams 
He  hears  again  the  far-off  forest-calls, 
The  lullaby  of  brooks  and  waterfalls, 
And  sees  Heaven's  stair  in  sunlight's  slanting  beams. 

The  poet  sings — and  quickened  memory 

Rewakes  the  harmonies  of  past  delights : — 

Affection's  half -forgotten  melody, 

The  wistful,  wooing  lay  that  love  indites, 
The  singing  silence  in  the  star-lit  nights — 

More  musical  than  any  mistrelsy. 

The  poet  sings — and  even  listless  ears 

Hear  mingled  melodies  unheard  till  now: — 

The  harmony  of  the  revolving  spheres, 

The  onward  rush  of  life's  adventurous  prow, 
The  benediction  of  the  bending  bough, 

The  growing  bond  which  all  mankind  endears. 


28 


REVISITED 

AS  I  retread  the  lane  that  stands 
Between  my  youth  and  Arcady, 
Even  the  grass  waves  welcome  hands, 
And  all  the  wild  flowers  nod  to  me. 

Again  the  birds  tell  where  is  hid 
A  little  nest  beneath  the  eaves, 

And  croon  of  nestlings,  cradled  mid 
The  woven  softness  of  its  leaves. 

"The  Pines"  breathe  low  a  boyhood  air; 

"The  Mall"  brings  back  a  lover's  tryst; 
This  gate  recalls  where  golden  hair, 

Entangled  in  my  heart,  was  kissed. 

Each  step  with  memories  is  rife, 
As  I  retread  youth's  dear  domain ; 

What  more  is  there  to  ask  of  life, 
When  I  go  down  this  Lover's  Lane? 

The  absent  ones,  they  are  not  dead; 

Unseen  they  come  to  welcome  me; 
And  why  should  life  the  future  dread? 

Love  now  hath  immortality. 


29 


THE  FLOWERS  OF  JUNE 


THESE  flowers  of  June 
The   gates    of   memory    unbar; 
These  flowers  of  June 
Such    old-time   harmonies    retune, 
I   fain   would  keep   the   gates   ajar, 
So  full  of  sweet  enchantment  are 
These  flowers  of  June. 

II 

Was  it  the  bloom  of  the  laurel  sprays, 

That  wakened  remembrance  of  singing  birds? 

Or,  was  it  the  charm  of  remembered  words, 
That  set  my  heart  singing  through  somber  days? 

I  longed  for  the  summer-time,  flower  and  tree; 

And  lo  1  the  summer-time  came  with  thee. 
The  bloom  is  no  more,  but  the  charm  still  stays. 


WHENCE  IS  THIS  FRAGRANCE? 

WHENCE  is  this  fragrance,  my  senses  delighting? 
Is  it  the  roses,  affection  brings  me — 
Troth  of  the  passionate  Springtime  replighting? 
Nay;  'tis  my  Thought — from  thinking  of  thee. 


30 


ONLY  AN  IVY  LEAF! 

ONLY  an  ivy  leaf! 
Remnant  of  dreams  and  of  hope  forward  winging, 
Blown  from  my  youth,  sweet  memories  bringing, 

Keeping  my  heart  from  grief, 
Keeping  the  rapture,  when  life  was  all  singing, 
Love  but  a  kiss — and  its  fragrance  still  clinging, 
All  from  an  ivy  leaf ! 

Only  an  ivy  leaf  ? 

Thousands  of  yesterdays  hide  in  its  keeping; 
Years  only  add  to  the  measure  still  heaping 

Surety  to  heart's  belief. 

I  have  made  truce  with  death :  there'll  be  no  weeping, 
If  at  the  end,  love  will  bring  to  my  reaping 

Only  this  ivy  leaf. 

Only  an  ivy  leaf 

Out  of  the  past.     While  its  joy  still  confessing, 
Out  of  the  present  comes  new  efflorescing, 

Even  though  held  in  fief 

Just  for  companionship.    Ah !  but  the  blessing, 
If  from  your  bounty  my  thought  were  caressing 

Only  an   ivy  leaf ! 


31 


CAN  I  FORGET? 

CAN  I  forget  the  fragrance, 
That  perfumed  all  my  way— 
That  turned  the  gray-haired  winter 
Into  perpetual  May? 

Can  I  forget  the  soothing 
Of  gentle,  willing  hands, 

That  bound  the  wounds  of  failure 
With  pity's   healing  bands? 

Can  I  forget  the  hand-clasp, 
When   friendship  was  begun— 

The  smiles  and  tears  of  passion, 
The  kiss,  that  made  us  one? 

There  may  be  a  forgetting 
Of  love  and  hope  now  fled, 

Of  bliss  and  parting  anguish, 
Dear  heart — when  I  am  dead. 


32 


THE  UNIVERSAL  PRAYER 

OLOVE,  teach  me  the  prayer  that  Nature  prays, 
While  lowly  kneeling, 
I  seek  celestial  paths  to  truth  and  ways 
Of  heavenly  healing  1 

Light  Thou  the  lamp  of  love  within  my  heart, 

And  keep  it  burning! 
Not  love  of  me,  be  made  the  greater  part 

Of  love's  returning, 

But  mine,  that  holdeth  all  humanity 

In  its  enfolding; 
That  giveth  all,  in  lavish  charity, 

And  nought  withholding. 

The  bees,  the  flowers,  the  grass  touch  heart  and  lip 

In  constant  wooing, 
And  all  earth's  creatures  seek  companionship, 

Life's  end  pursuing. 

But  these  are  loves — not  Love;  so  great  a  thing 

Is  love  eternal, 
Thought  may  not  reach  with  utmost  stretch  of  wing 

Its  heights  supernal; 

The  stars  are  but  the  dust  beneath  Love's  feet, 

Yet  this  immortal 
Can  be  held  close  between  two  hearts  that  meet 

Within  life's  portal, 

33 


And  be  enmeshed  in  the  enfolding  net 

Of  earth's  existence; 
Within  the  mother's  arms  its  joy  is  set 

With  sweet  persistence; 

Friends  clasp  its  hand,  and  wedded  lives  have  part 

In  its  caresses; 
Great  minds,  deep  natures  and  the  pure  in  heart 

Find  its  recesses. 

The  soul  finds  in  this  love  a  heavenly  tie, 

Ever  believing 
The  intimations  of  the  things  that  lie 

Beyond  perceiving — 

Not  seen,  but  known ;  of  things  not  held,  but  felt ; 

Of  things  not  measured 
In  certainty,  but  in  rich  promise  dealt, 

And  in  hope  treasured. 

Love  breathes  eternity,  and  the  soul  knows 

By  intuition, 
Love  immortality  on  life  bestows 

For  its  fruition. 

I/ENVOI 

To  me  there  comes  today  assurance  clear, 

Without  restriction, 
That  love  finds  its  fruition  even  here — 

And  benediction; 

34 


How  can  I  of  Love's  bounty  be  bereft, 

Or  lose  its  blessing, 
When  you  a  pearl  of  memory  have  left 

For  my  possessing? 

May  love's  clear  flame  be  lighted  in  your  heart 

For  life's  sojourning  I 
And  would  that  I  had  some  small  grace  and  art 

To  keep  it  burning ! 


THERE  ISN'T  ANY  ONE  TO  PLAY 

WITH  ANY  MORE 
(The  Last  Words  of  Mark  Twain) 

THE  glow  is  fading  from  the  western  sky, 
And  one  by  one  my  comrades,  as  of  yore, 
Have  given  up  their  play,  and  said,  good-bye; 
There  isn't  any  one  to  play  with  any  more! 

Don't  cry,  dear  heart!  for  I  am  worn  and  old; 

No  longer  have  I  gifts  within  my  store; 
E'en  love's  best  gifts  to  me,  I  could  not  hold ; 

There  isn't  any  one  to  play  with  any  more! 

I  miss  the  tender  hand-clasp  of  old  friends, 
The  kisses  of  the  loved  ones  gone  before; 

Tis  lonely,  when  the  heart  first  comprehends 
There  isn't  any  one  to  play  with  any  more! 
35 


ONLY  A  LITTLE  WHILE 

ONLY  a  little  while 
May  we  together  stay, 
For  onward  both  must  fare 
Upon  the  way. 

Only  a  little  while 

Can  we  our  cheer  prolong — 
Your  tender,  helpful  touch, 

My  simple  song! 

And  when  the  day  is  done, 
And  ashes  quench  the  fire, 

We  each  will  say,  farewell, 
And  slay  desire. 

We  go  our  separate  ways ; 

But  how  can  we  forget, 
As  the  slow  years  go  by, 

That  we  have  met! 

For  one,  'twill  ever  be 

A  golden  episode — 
An  oasis  of  rest, 

Upon  the  road. 

And  you? — how  will  it  be 
With  you?  Can  you  forget? 

Will  it,  too,  be  a  loss 
And  a  regret? 

36 


THREE  ANGELS 

WHEN  all  the  world  was  fair  and  life  was  new, 
Three  angels  came  to  me,  who  brought  the  clue 
To  heaven.     One  was  love — by  birth,  divine; 
One,  hope — light  of  the  way,  and  one  was — you. 

Love  brought  to  earth  the  music  of  the  spheres ; 
Hope  bade  the  heart  to  listen  through  its  tears ; 

And  you — you  were  the  sweet  interpreter 
Of  Heaven's  strains  to  earth's  untutored  ears. 

First  you  took  flight.    Earth  had  no  witchery 
To  tempt  delight,  or  win  affection's  plea; 

Then   hope   lost   heart,   and   with   despairing  tears 
Departed,  leaving  only — love  and  me. 

But  love  has  stayed  with  me  the  long  way  through ; 
And,  disappointment's  burden  to  undo, 

Has  brought  me  new  and  not  less  dear  delights — 
The  deathless  memories  of  hope — and  you. 


HOPE  DEFERRED 

EMPTY  of  happiness  life  slips  away, 
Leaving  deferred  the  hope  I  most  esteem. 
Let  not  the  winter  sunset  of  my  day 
Enfold  me, — with  love's  promise  gone  astray, 
Nor  fail  of  the  fulfillment  of  my  dream  1 

37 


THE  UNFORGOTTEN  PAIN 

OLOVE  thy  flower  I  have  pressed 
Against  my  heart  all  torn; 
But  while  it  fondly  was  caressed, 
It  pierced  me  with  its  thorn. 

That  wound  has  left  my  heart  forlorn, 

For  ere  I  knew  it  pained, 
The  flower  faded  with  the  morn, 

And  only  pain  remained. 

My  flower  gathering  is  o'er; 

The  autumn  sunset  wanes; 
The  flowers  I  gathered  are  no  more — 

Only  the  pain  remains. 

And  yet  the  flower's  fragrance  stays; 

Its  memories  remain 
A  blessedness,  that  far  outweighs 

The  unforgotten  pain. 


WITH  LOVE  FORGOT 

OF  all  accomplishment  dismembered 
Is  life,  with  love  forgot— 
When  I,  alas!  am  unremembered, 
And  I  remember  not. 

38 


MEMORIES  OF  CORTINA 

MEMORIES  of  Alpine  heights, 
Argosies  of  wine  and  myrrh, 
Rarest  of  all  rare  delights 
Gather  round  the  thought  of  her. 
Aromas  of  the  hills  and  vines 
Rival  her  footsteps  to  proclaim ; 
Even  in  these  simple  lines 
Trails  the  fragrance  of  her  name. 

My  friend,  I  wonder  if  this  Autumn  rose 
About  your  path  its  pristine  fragrance  throws? 
Recalls  a  mingled  scent  of  rose  and  rhyme, 
Garnered  from  memories  of  a  summer-time? 
And  e'en  though  fate  may  cast  it  in  the  mire, 
Reft  of  its  trellis  it  will  still  aspire; 
E'en  though  it  be  tossed  under  heedless  feet, 
To  him  who  sends  it  'twill  be  ever  sweet. 

Must  I  blot  out  that  golden  gleam 
Athwart  the  pathway  of  delight ; 
Return  to  silence  and  the  night; 
Give  up  that  new-found  Pearl,  beyond 
All  price,  because  my  over-fond 
Restrainless  hopes  insistent  dream — 
E'en  as  the  lilies  in  the  bud 
Try  their  sweet  promise  to  redeem? 


39 


THANKSGIVING 

WITHIN  our  hearts  what  happy  memories  well 
To-day,   and  a  new  thankfulness   compel! 
The  bygone  years  return  with  only  their 
Remembered  tenderness,  and,  unaware 
Of  age  and  change,  the  old-time  love  retell. 

But  while  we  feast,  we  cannot  quite  dispel 
Regret  for  lost  ones  whom  we  love  so  well. 
Yet  why  thus  grieve?    There  is  no  vacant  chair 
Within  our  hearts. 

Ahl  friends,  does  not  this  constant  love  foretell 
A  future  greeting,  for  each  last  farewell? 

Even  to-day  we  tread  the  Heavenly  stair, 

And  now  their  immortality  we  share, 
If  our  beloved  ones  thus  ever  dwell 
Within  our  hearts. 


40 


SYMPATHY 

SIMPLY  a  touch  of  the  hand, 
One  little  word ; 
Sunshine  spread  over  the  land ; 
Then  sang  a  bird. 

Sunshine  may  give  place  to  rain, 

Hope  be  deferred; 
But  through  the  loss  and  the  pain, 

Still  sings  the  bird. 

— Set  to  music  by  Lisa  Lehman. 


NOT  FOR  ONE  ONLY 

NOT  for  One  only — although  she  be  dearest; 
Not  for  the  loved  ones,  affection  has  gained; 
But  for  all  hearts,  who  have  seen  the  Rose-vision, 
E'en  though  the  Rose  may  be  still  unattained. 

For  the  forgotten  whose  love  dream  is  over; 

Those,  who  still  water  dead  flow'rs  in  love's  room; 
For  those  glad  lovers  whose  hopes  are  accomplished; 

For  all  who  love — are  these  rose-thoughts  in  bloom. 

More  than  my  thought  are  these  verses  enfolding; 

Others  will  find,  that  for  them  they  contain 
Memories  sweet,  that  their  own  love  is  holding — 

Holding  in  trust  until  hearts  meet  again. 


41 


L'ENVOI 

/KNOW  the  garment  of  my  praise 
Is  neither  beautiful  nor  new; 
'Tis  made  for  warmth  on  wintry  days; 
Still  it  may  charm  in  other  ways, 
For  you  will  find,  if  hem  you  raise, 
The  broidery  of  my  thought  of  you. 

As  greeting  for  life's  festal  days, 

I  send  these  gathered  thoughts,  in  lieu 
Of  fading  flowers  or  costly  vase, 
To  be,  perchance,  a  song  of  praise — 
A  blessedness  which  with  me  stays, 
If  I  the  joy  may  share  with  you. 


42 


IN  SA'DFS  ROSE  GARDEN 


rO  hold  fast  memory,  trust  not  fleeting  flowers 
To  deck  your  wassail  bowls  and  lover's  bowers! 
These  earth-born  blossoms  wither  all  too  soon; 
A  rose  blooms  only  for  a  few  short  hours. 

But  here,  a  book  of  roses  has  been  made, 
In  which  the  perfumes  of  the  past  are  laid. 

When  flowers  wither  then  remembrance  flies, 
But  roses  from  this  book  will  never  fade. 

— Paraphrased   from   the 

Preface  of  Sa'di's  Guilistan." 


44 


IN   SA'DI'S  ROSE  GARDEN 


I 
DOTH  FRAGRANCE  VANISH  WITH  THE  ROSE? 

O  HAPLESS  Vase !    And  how  doth  it  befall 
Thy  cast-out  fragments  so  much  scent  enclose? 
This  sweetness  is  not  of  myself  at  all, 
But  once,  O  Sa'di,  once  I  held  a  rose. 

Blest  lot !    With  me  a  sweetness  also  stays ; 

It  scents  the  chamber  of  my  dreams,  and  strows 
With  happy,  perfumed  memories  my  days; 

Keeps  life  abloom.    I,  too,  once  held  a  Rose. 

How  could  these  idle  songs  of  mine  perfume 
Another's  empty  vase ;  or  tune  life's  prose 

To  poetry — keep  memory  abloom 
With  joy,  unless  I  once  had  held  a  rose? 


45 


II 

A   BREATH   OF   HEALING 

WHENCE  comes  this  draught  of  healing  for  the  soul 
With  all  the  mystery  of  hope,  the  toll 
Of  joy,  and  promise  of  such  peace  and  rest, 
That  makes  life's  broken  chalice  once  more  whole? 

Is  it  a  breeze  of  lily-scented  May 

From  verdant  plains ;  or  memories  of  Cathay 

That  with  the  caravans  of  attar  come? 
It  is  her  bosom's  fragrant  breath  astray? 

Ill 
EACH   MORN  A  THOUSAND  ROSES   BRINGS 

SHE  is  so  sweet, 
The  clover-blossoms  eager  stand 
To  kiss  her  feet; 

While  I,  who  may  not  kiss  her  hand, 
Bless  all  the  wild  flowers  in  the  land. 

She  is  so  fair, 
The  wanton  breeze  vies  with  the  bee 

To  kiss  her  hair; 

And  all  the  froward  world  seems  free 
To  take  what  she  denies  to  me. 


46 


IV 
A   GARDEN   WRAITH 

SWEET  presence,  that  so  charms  my  soul, 
Must  thou  forever  be  unviewed? 
Must  thou  my  longing  ne'er  console — 
My  seeking  arms  always  elude? 

Art  thou  a  disembodied  joy? 

Love's  lost  delight  now  sought  in  vain? 
A  memory,  time  cannot  cloy, 

Of  passion's  ecstasy — and  pain? 

No,  Sa'di;  but  I  can  atone 

For  life's  arrears;  my  breath  bestows 
A  gift,  to  all  but  thee  unknown; 

I  am  the  Fragrance  of  a  Rose. 


47 


V 
UNFULFILLED   DESIRE 

AROSE;  Life  hath  unnumbered  roses  strown 
Across  my  path ;  and  they  were  all  so  fair, 
I  did  not  note  if  one,  perchance,  had  thrown 
Its  branches  round  my  heart — and  still  clings  there. 

But  once  I  found  in  far  off  Khorassan 
Earth's  perfect  bloom — an  exquisite,  white  rose; 

It  blossomed  high  above  the  reach  of  man, 
Peerless  and  pure  as  its  own  mountain  snows. 

Afar  I  watched  its  growth  and  grace  sublime, 

Its  ever-new  surprises  of  delight — 
Ah,  Allah!  if  I  could  but  upward  climb 

Unto  the  rare  perfection  of  that  height! 

Still  strive,  0  Sa'di!    To  the  unattained 

Thy  poet  soul  forever  must  aspire; 
My  virgin  bloom  to  thee  were  naught,  if  gained; 

I  am  the  Rose  of  unfulfilled  desire. 


48 


VI 

THY  PERFUMED  HEART 

OROSE  of  my  desire,  through  all  my  days 
The  beauty  of  thy  fragrant  perfectness 
Will  yearnings  of  the  heart  and  soul  upraise, 
And  all  the  energies  of  mind  impress. 

And  if  life's  ministry  may  not  suffice 
To  gain  what  I  have  sought  with  utmost  breath, 

Life  even  will  I  give  to  pay  the  price, 
And  on  glad  wings  will  seek  thee — after  death. 

For  what  is  death?    Only  life's  battle  fought; 

A  folding  of  the  hands  from  care's  release; 
A  gathering  mist  o'erclouding  sight  and  thought; 

Then  Allah's  greeting  voice,  With  thee  be  peace! 

An  interval  of  blissful,  dreamless  rest; 

And  then  a  song  voiced  by  the  starry  choir 
That  wakens  to  new  life;  then  thy  white  breast 

And  perfumed  heart,  O  Rose  of  my  desire! 


49 


VII 
SEND  ME  A  ROSE 

SEND  me  a  rose— imprinting 
A  kiss  of  your  content; 
What  if  its  blush  is  hinting, 
The  rose  holds  more  than  scent?— 

A  rose  of  your  own  tending 
That  grafts  your  gentleness 

Upon  its  beauty,  blending 
Its  grace  with  your  caress. 

May  not  one  rosebud  growing 

Within  your  garden  close, 
Be  trusted  with  the  knowing 

Your  kiss  hides  in  the  rose? 

VIII 
A  PHANTOM  OF  DELIGHT 

IS  it  a  rose, 
Or  but  a  phantom  of  delight 
That  only  blows 
Upon  imagination's  height? 

Or  a  love-spell? 
Blent  with  the  perfume  of  her  heart, 

I  cannot  tell 
Its  fragrance  and  her  love  apart. 

Within  its  bloom 
So  much  of  joy  it  holds  for  me, 

There  is  but  room 
In  it  for  love  and  me — and  thee. 
50 


I 


IX 

NOT  BY  BREAD  ALONE 

F  thou  of  fortune  be  bereft, 
And  thou  dost  find  but  two  loaves  left 
To  thee — sell  one,  and  with  the  dole 
Buy  hyacinths  to  feed  thy  soul. 


But  not  alone  does  beauty  bide 

Where  bloom  and  tint  and  fragrance  hide; 

The  minstrel's  melody  may  feed 

Perhaps  a  more  insistent  need. 

But  even  beauty,  howe'er  blent 
To  ear  or  eye,  fails  to  content; 

Only  the  heart,  with  love  afire, 

Can  satisfy  the  soul's  desire. 

X 

COMPANIONSHIP 

UE  friendship  brings  the  heart  delight  and  rest, 
-L    In  which  life's  lasting  memories  are  blent; 
Companionship  is  friendship  at  its  best, 
And  more — it  is  fulfillment  of  love's  quest, 
The  consummation  of  the  heart's  content. 


51 


XI 

THE  WORTH  OF  A  FRIEND 

TEACH  me,  Beloved,  how  to  make 
My  life  as  beautiful  as  thine; 
Like  thee,  to  live  for  others'  sake, 
And  share  with  all  my  oil  and  wine! 

Teach  me,  in  lavish  alms,  like  thee 
The  harvest  of  my  heart  to  spend! 

Nay!  nay!    No  virtue  is  in  me — 
My  inspiration  is  a  Friend. 

Love  taught  that  giving  is  to  pray; 

That  bounteous  gifts  increase  one's  store; 
And  Hyacinths,  if  given  away, 

But  feed  the  famished  soul  the  mart. 

XII 

A  GIFT  OF  FLOWERS 

WILT  thou  befriend  these  flowers  I  send- 
A  tribute  all  too  slender 
For  what  thy  thought  to  me  hath  brought 
Out  of  its  lavish  splendor? 

They're  meant  to  grace  an  empty  vase, 

And  bear  a  fragrance  tender; 
If  lost,  the  scent,  take  the  intent, 

With  greetings  of  the  sender. 


ELUSIVE  HAPPINESS 

THIS  faint  aroma  of  the  Box, 
Eluding  all  attempt  to  find 

Wherein  it  lies — 
Is  it  love's  spirit,  memory  locks 

In  haunted  chambers  of  the  mind, 
When  friendship  dies? 

Or,  is  it  the  divine  caress 

Love  promises — but  ne'er  bestows — 

Which  still  invites? 
The  phantom  of  a  happiness 

That  vanished  with  the  earliest  rose — 
But  yet  delights? 

Is  it  the  song  of  last  year's  bird? 
The  ghost  of  the  unspoken  word 

Love  ventured   not, 

When  love  looked  back,  then  went  his  way? 
The  unvoiced  word  love  meant  to  say — 
And  then  forgot? 


53 


THE    BIRTH    OF    AFFECTION 

WAS  it  a  dream, 
Or,  but  a  wakened  singing  bird? 
Why  did  it  seem 
So  like  reality?    It  stirred 
My  soul  with  its  delicious  strain 

To  joy  supreme — 
Then  fled  to  its  retreat  again. 

Was  it  a  sigh, 
That  from  an  overburdened  heart 

Came  wandering  by? 
To  give  it  shelter  every  art 
I  tried,  if  I,  perchance,  its  quest 

Might  satisfy. 
But  what  have  I  for  such  a  guest? 

Was  it  a  smile? 
'Twas  tenderness  and  sweetness  blent, 

Which  all  the  while 
Like  summer  sunshine,  came  and  went. 
Ah !  can  I  e'er  obtain  the  grace, 

That  may  beguile 
Such  sweetness  from  its  hiding-place? 


54 


Was  it  a  hope? 
It  was  a  glimmer  in  the  night, 

Wherein  I  grope, 

Which  I  would  woo  to  brighter  light 
Of  comradeship.    Could  I  but  stand 

Within  its  scope, 
I  then  might  find  the  Promised  Land. 

What  was  it,  dear? 
A  dream? — a  hope? — a  smile? — a  sigh? 

It  was  sincere 

And  fond  affection's  wistful  cry; 
The  warmth  of  friendship's  genial  fire 

And  gentle  cheer; — 
The  blossoming  of  heart's  desire. 


SHE  GAVE  ME  A  ROSE 

SHE  gave  me  a  rose 
When  I  asked  for  a  kiss ; 
Am  I  to  suppose 
She  gave  me  a  rose, 
Her  heart  to  disclose, 

Or  my  suit  to  dismiss? 
Yet  she  gave  me  a  rose, 
When  I  asked  for  a  kiss. 


PROPOSAL 

ABIDE  with  me,  O  gentle  guest! 
Thy  presence  brings  to  me  sweet  rest; 
Thy  hands  bring  soothing  to  my  brow; 
Thy  words  such  sympathy  avow, 
Thy  going  leaves  me  all  unblest. 

Still  fairer  shall  thy  bower  be  dressed; 
Anticipated  each  request; 

One  song  thy  life  shall  be,  if  thou 
Abide  with  me. 

I  would  not  longer  have  thee  guest; 
I  cannot  hold  thee  uncaressed 

So  near  my  heart.    Sweet  love,  be  thou 
My  bride;  Love's  tenderest  name  allow, 
And  ever  in  his  happy  nest 
Abide  with  me. 

— Set  to  music  by  Ethelbert  Nevin. 


SHIPS  THAT  PASS  IN  THE  NIGHT 

WHEN  we  so  near  each  other  sail, 
And  see  the  other's  signal  light, 
Must   we   miss   one   another's    Hail, 
Like  ships  that  pass  in  the  night? 


56 


A  SUPPLIANT 

HER  face  sometimes  in  deep  regret 
Is  sad,  I  know; 

Her  eyes  sometimes  with  tears  are  wet — 
Like  a  dew-laden  violet — 

And  overflow ; 

Her  heart  sometimes  I  grieve — and  yet 
I  love  her  so. 

A  suppliant,  I  tell  my  beads, 

With  tears  and  sighs, 
Till  her  compassion  intercedes 
With  love,  to  pardon  thoughtless  deeds. 

My  one  joy  flies 
If  she  my  love  no  longer  needs, 

And  her  love — dies. 

And  at  her  feet  on  bended  knees 

In  tears  I  pray, 

"Come  back,  come  back !    Your  own  heart  sees 
That  life  hath  nought  for  me  but  lees 

With  you  away. 
I  want  that  little  flower,  Heartsease, 

To  keep  for  aye." 


57 


IN  SPRING'S  DISGUISE 

SHE  came  youth-bosomed,  cherry-cheeked  with 
sunshine, 

And  all  the  flowers  came  forth  to  kiss  her  feet; 
The  bees  retuned  their  humming  to  her  singing, 
And  all  the  birds  her  song  strove  to  repeat. 

She  came,  attired  in  apple-bloom  and  fragrance — 
God's  promise  diademed  upon  her  brow. 

Men  saw  her  radiant  youth,  and  called  her,  Springtime ; 
But  Sweetheart,  only  I  knew  it  was — thou. 


THE  CLUE 

WHEN  my  spirits  droop  low  and  life's  strivings 
seem  vain, 
It  is  you,  who  revives  and  uplifts  them  again; 

And  the  thread  unto  which  I  hold  fast  as  the  clue 
To  lead  back  from  this  maze  of  dejection — is  you. 


53 


MY   FRIEND 

MY  gentle  Friend : 
I  call  her  "Friend" ;  what  other  name 
A  nearer  fellowship  can  claim? 
A  lover's  ardor  might  confer 
A  tenderer  name  awhile  on  her; 
A  husband's  pride  for  brief  space  might 
In  some  sweet,  household  name  delight; 
But  I — I  call  her  simply  "Friend" — 
The  name  in  which  all  others  blend. 

What  doth  she  send? 
She  sends  approving  words  of  cheer; 
To  all  my  grief  lends  listening  ear ; 
And  burdens  which  she  cannot  share, 
With  gentle  counsel  helps  me  bear. 

Whate'er  our  will, 
It  lies  not  always  in  our  power 
To  light  another's  darkest  hour; 
But  to  relieve  and  heal,  while  he 
Endures  alone  his  agony — 
This  is  true  friendship's  gift  benign, 
And  is  above  all  gifts  divine. 
This  gift  she  is  to  me — a  rest, 
A  joy,  that  ever  makes  me  blest, 

And  more  blest  still. 

And  what  have  I  to  give  my  friend, 
Worth  half  the  blessings  that  attend 

59 


Her  constant  ministry?    Can  I 
A  single  need  of  hers  supply 

With  my  poor  flowers? 
I  only  know,  when  I  would  bless, 
I  must  all  loving  words  repress, 
Count  every  eager  impulse  vain ; 
What  gifts  can  my  poor  hands  contain, 

For  her  dark  hours? 
I  may  but  hold  her  till  the  end 
In  that  sweet,  faithful  word,  "My  Friend." 


CAMARADERIE 

I 

NOT  frequent  speech,  nor  even  length  of  years 
Is  it,  on  which  a  comradeship  depends — 
Nor  ties  of  blood.     A  smile  ofttimes  endears; 
A  pressure  of  the  hand — and  we  are  friends. 

II 
A  friend  is  the  gift  that  one  gives  to  one's  self — 

Too  valued  to  be  the  gift  of  another; 
But  far  above  wisdom  or  beauty  or  pelf 

Is  a  comrade — the  gift  that  we  give  to  each  other. 


60 


SONG 

COULD  I  but  hide  me  in  a  rose, 
And,  pillowed  on  her  gentle  breast, 
Against  her  maiden  heart  respose, 
And  be  unconsciously  caressed! 

Could  I  but  hide  me  in  a  rose, 
That  I  might  in  her  bosom  liel 

I  would  such  gentleness  disclose 
As  would  its  tenderness  outvie. 

Could  I  but  hide  me  in  a  rose, 

That  I  might  breathe  about  her  heart 
The  blithe  contentment  love  bestows — 
-  Its  joy  and  me  she  could  not  part! 

Could  I  but  hide  me  in  a  rose, 

I  would  such  blissful  fragrance  breathe, 
Her  heart  would  waken,  and,  who  knows? 

I  might  her  bridal  garland  wreathe ! 


61 


THE  JOY  OF  LOVING 

IS  it  so  wonderful 
That  from  the  round  of  daily  strife, 
I  rest  awhile,  and  flowers  cull 

To  feed  my  hungry  soul  and  life? 
The  joy  of  a  sweet  memory 
Is  not  so  great  a  mystery. 

But  why  should  ever  I  complain, 

If  in  my  love  she  hath  no  part? 
Sufficient  unto  me  the  gain, 

That  she  lives  ever  in  my  heart. 

The  thought  of  her  my  soul  inspires — 
A  ministry  that  never  tires. 

Today  the  Springtime  wakes  again 

The  flowers  from  winter's  trance  of  snow ; 
The  wine  of  youth  is  in  each  vein, 

Love's  rose,  close  to  my  heart.    What  though 
She  may  no  thought  on  me  confer? 
I  still  have  left  my  love  for  her. 


62 


BEAUTY 

SAID  the  rose  unto  the  reed: — 
"Thou  art  but  a  worthless  weed; 
Why  should'st  thou  to  fame  aspire, 
Who  art  sprung  but  from  the  mire? 

"Royal  is  my  line  and  state ; 
Honored  most  at  feast  and  fete; 
In  every  lover's  heart  a  guest ; 
Chosen  for  my  lady's  breast; 

"Through  all  ages  bards  have  sung — 
In  all  lands,  in  every  tongue — 
Of  my   loveliness   and   grace, 
Granting  me  the  honored  place. 

"Why  thus  hold  thy  head  so  high? 
Thinkest  thou  with  me  to  vie? 
Graceless  offspring  of  the  fen, 
Of  what  use  art  thou  to  men?" 

Said  the  reed: — "Though  graceless,  thin, 
Man's  chief  helper  I  have  been ; 

Guide  to  life  and  beauty — when 
I,  from  reed,  became  a  pen. 

"Wisdom  could  not  learn,  except 
By  the  records  I  have  kept; 

E'en  the  poet's  songs  were  naught, 
Till  by  me  on  tablets  wrought; 

63 


"Need  of  me  there  was,  to  frame 
Even  thy  pretentious  claim. 

Man  owes  all  of  his  fair  dower 
To  the  magic  of  my  power." 

Said  the  poet:— "Nay;  the  reed 
Ne'er  conceived  the  pen.    Indeed, 
Soul  did  not  man's  need  disclose, 
Till  he  thought  about  a  rose. 

"To  detain  that  vision,  then 
From  the  reed  he  shaped  a  pen; 

But  the  prompting  thought  man  owes 
To  the  beauty  of  the  rose. 

"But  though  beauty,  more  than  skill, 
Wakes  achievements  of  the  will, 
Songs  that  seek  the  heart  to  win 
Come  but  from  the  soul  within." 


YET  SHE  HEARS  NOT 

MY  Love!     I  call  her  through  the  empty  woods, 
Adown  the  winds;  and  all  my  votive  lays 
Reiterate  her  name  in  various  moods ; 
Yet  she  hears  not,  but  keeps  accustomed  ways. 


6-1 


LOVE'S   RECOMPENSE 

WHILE  through  the  years  my  songs  were  wrought 
From  memories  of  love's  tryst  and  tourney, 
To  what  a  garden  love  hath  brought 
My  feet  at  last  to  end  life's  journey! 

In  this  fair  garden  of  delight 

The  roses  of  a  lifetime  bloom; 
And  whether  they  be  red  or  white, 

Each  breathes  its  own  distinct  perfume. 

One  holds  the  scent  of  love  first  born ; 

One  hath  the  fragrance  of  a  kiss, 
And  one  was  on  her  bosom  worn, 

And  hath  partaken  of  its  bliss. 

One  is  that  exquisite,  white  rose 
That  opes  on  fancy's  chastened  heights — 

A  bloom  of  June  mid  mountain  snows — 
Which  most  of  all  the  soul  delights. 

Its  charms  of  beauty,  grace  and  scent, 

Such  wealth  and  blessedness  enclose, 
What  garden  could  my  soul  content, 

That  did  not  hold  this  ideal  rose? 


65 


L'ENVOI 

Dear  Friend,  though  seen  by  other  eyes, 
Your  heart  must  read  through  all  disguise 
What  hidden  meaning  underlies 
This  fragrant  greeting. 

For  you  these  humble  flowers  grow; 
To  you  their  sweet-breathed  greetings  go — 
The  message  you  already  know 
Once  more  repeating. 

As  summer's  heat  unfolds  the  rose, 
So  will  the  heart's  warm  glow  unclose 
That  tender  flower,  that  only  blows 
From  love's  entreating; 

And,  haply,  as  your  footsteps  wend 
These  rose-twined  paths,  they  will  portend 
That  you  shall  find  your  "journeys  end 
In  lovers  meeting." 


66 


IN  ARCADY 


rO  Arcady  hast  never  been? 
Then  let  me  give  .the  mystic  key — 
The  password  that  shall  take  thee  in 
To  Arcady. 

Love — love  that  worketh  charity; 

That  holdeth  all  mankind  as  kin; 
That  beareth  human  sympathy. 

Love  is  the  only  door  therein; 

And  love,  the  "open  sesame," 
Whereby  thou  may'st  an  entrance  win 
To  Arcady. 

— Set  to  music  by  Ethelbert  Nevin. 


68 


POETRY 

CAN  any  one  suppose 
The  grafting  of  a  rhyme 
Upon  the  end  of  prose, 

Makes  feeble  thoughts  sublime? 
As  well  with  scent  propose 
To  make  a  weed — a  rosel 

If  one  a  fragrant  rose 

Into  the  verse  entwine, 
It  is  no  longer  prose; 

Even  the  simplest  line 

Becomes  a  singing  bird, 
With  notes  before  unheard. 

A  poem  is  a  dream, 

Made  real  to  him  who  hears ; 
It  is  a  captured  gleam 

From  the  unseen,  that  cheers, 
And  puts  the  halo's  grace 
Around  the  commonplace — 

A  glimpse  of  loveliness; 

A  rapture  that  entreats, 
Though  words  but  half  express 
What  the  mind's  eye  completes, 
While  a  sweet  music  sings 
From  subtly  cadenced  strings. 


69 


A  poem  is  the  song 

All  human  hearts  translate — 
And  ne'er  translate  it  wrong, 
Though  inarticulate; 

And  this  is  its  high  art — 
It  lingers  in  the  heart. 


THE  TRANSFORMATION 

MY  heart  was  but  a  voiceless  reed 
That  nodded  by  a  drowsy  stream, 
Till  thou  didst  fill  it  with  thy  breath— 

Thy  breath  that  waked  it  from  its  dream. 
And  now  it  hath  become  a  flute, 

That  pipes  how  blest  my  life  hath  been — 
More  blest  because  accompanied 
By  music  thou  hast  breathed  therein. 


SOMEBODY 

SOMEBODY  keeps  all  my  garden  abloom, 
Bringing  me  treasures,  both  old  and  new; 
Somebody's  pathway  leaves  a  perfume, 

Which,  when  I  follow  it,  leads  me  to  you. 
Somebody  sent  me  a  beautiful  rose 

Grown  in  the  garden  of  her  good  will, 
But  I  am  doubting  if  somebody  knows 
Half  of  the  need  that  her  good  wishes  fill. 
70 


THE  BLUE  BIRD 
Maeterlinck's  Bird  of  Happiness 

THE  bird  housed  in  my  heart,  what  need 
Has  he  of  more  to  satisfy — 
With  pinions  from  all  bondage  freed, 
And  the  illimitable  sky? 

The  edge  of  his  far-reaching  wings 

Revives  my  life  with  gentle  beat, 
Heals  with  its  soothing  touch,  and  brings 

New  strength  unto  my   failing  feet.* 

The  bird's  own  self  is  in  my  song; 

And  even  the  song  is  sweeter  still 
When  my  own  thought  and  feeling  long 

The  need  of  sympathy  to  fill. 

When  love  took  flight,  then  fled  the  bird; 

But  to  the  fugitive  I  cry, 
"Hast  thou  for  me  no  lyric  word 

That  need  and  longing  to  supply?" 

I  ask  in  turn  the  nomad  cloud, 
The  wandering  wind,  the  homeless  sea; 

Through  woodland  wastes  I  cry  aloud, 
"O  bird,  hast  thou  forsaken  me?" 

How  can  one  ask  a  song  from  me, 
Who  am  but  the  poor  instrument? 


*  The   eagle   revives    his   sick   mate    by    brushing   her    with   the 
tips  of  his  wings. 

71 


Ask  it  of  Love,  for  only  he 
The  poet  is,  and  can  content. 

The  bird  flown  from  my  heart,  what  need 

Had  he  of  more  to  satisfy— 
With  pinions  from  all  bondage  freed, 

And  the  illimitable  sky? 


THE  BLUE  BIRD'S  RETURN 

OBLUE  Bird,  O  wild  bird, 
Where  is  thy  place  of  nesting? 
I  hear  thy  song, 
The  way  along — 
But  vain  has  been  my  questing. 

O  Blue  Bird,  O  blithe  bird, 
I've  found  thy  place  of  nesting; 

For  when  I  sing 

Thy  song,  I  bring 
An  end  to  heart's  unresting. 

O  Blue  Bird,  O  dream  bird, 
My  heart's  thy  place  of  nesting; 

For  in  heart's  rest 

Is  found  thy  nest, 
However  vain  life's  questing. 


72 


THOU  SHALT  CALL,  AND  I  WILL  ANSWER 

Jeremiah  XXXIII.  3. 

THUS  said  the  Lord: — "As  sentinel, 
I  stand  to  guard  Love's  citadel; 
When  Evil's  stealthy  steps  creep  near 
That  overwhelm  thy  heart  with  fear, 
And  thou  for  help  shalt  call  on  me, 
Then  surely  I  will  answer  thee." 

O  Friend,  who  standest  on  the  height, 
All  panoplied  in  aureate  light, 
To  guard  the  way  to  love  and  truth 
Against  the  world's  assault  and  ruth; 
When  lurking  foes  my  post  assail 
And  all  my  strength  and  courage  fail 
Before  those  ambushed  doubts  and  fears 
That   sap  the  faith  and  trust  of  years ; 
When  from  my  solitude  I  call 
For  words  of  cheer  to  lift  the  pall, 
O  thou,  whose  strength  is  tenderness, 
And  whose  commission  is  to  bless — 
Wilt  thou  not  answer,  and  dispel 
That  fearsome  dread  with,  "All  is  well?" 


73 


COMPLAINT  TO  SPRING 

O  SPRING,  why  lingerest  thou  so  long, 
When  all  the  birds  should  homeward  wing 
Their  way  with  hymeneal  song, 
Thou  laggard  Spring? 

And  what  delayeth  thee  so  long? 

Have  birds  forgotten  to  take  wing, 
And  thou  art  tethered  to  their  song, 
Forgetful  Spring? 

Is  it  the  snow  of  mountain  heights 

About  the  sleeping  valley  clings, 
And  every  peeping  flower  affrights — 
That  numbs  thy  wings? 

The  little  song-bird  is  a-cold; 

How  can  joy  fill  the  notes  he  sings 
Without  some  sunshine  to  unfold 
His  heart — and  wings? 

Cannot  one  timid  flower  grow, 

In  spite  of  frost  and  cold,  to  bring — 
Like  the  arbutus  through  the  snow — 
Promise  of  Spring? 

And  yet,  there  is  one  blissful  song, 

A  never-ending  song  of  Spring — 
And  birds  of  memory  prolong 
Its  ministering. 

74 


It  is  the  sweetest  song  on  earth, 

Which  plays  upon  life's  tenderest  string- 
The  song,  remembering  the  birth 
Of  love's  sweet  spring. 


SPRING'S   RETURN 

SWEET  Spring,  thy  bloom  bedims  the  snow ; 
Thy  fragrant  breath  is  heaven  inspired; 
Even  Solomon  was  never  so 
In  beauty  tired. 

Thou  must  have  heard  my  wistful  cry 

Through  earth's  remotest  corners  ring, 
That  thou  could'st  even  time  outfly 
With  thy  fleet  wing. 

With  telepathic  flash  and  speed. 

Before  my  song  had  ceased  to  sing 
In  even  my  own  ears,  the  need 
Was  filled,  dear  Spring. 

***** 
Ah !  Friend,  while  all  greet  Spring's  return, 

'Tis  I  am  most  delighted,  now 
Through  all  disguises  I  discern 
That  it  is  thou. 


75 


In  thy  fresh  bloom  and  radiance, 

Thou  bringest  me  a  new  content, 
For  there  is  in  thy  winsome  glance 
Spring's  promise  blent. 

ADMIRATION 
Sweetest  eyes  were  ever  seen. 

— CAMOENS. 

"QWEETEST  eyes  were  ever  seen." 

^J  Could  the  poet  e'er  devise 
Rarer  praise  than  gave  Catrine, 
Sweetest  eyes? 

And  which  are  the  sweetest  eyes? 

Soft  and  melting,  lustrous,  keen, 
Merry — or  demure  and  wise? 

Eyes  that  shine  with  light  serene, 

Mirrored  from  love's  happy  skies — 
Like  thine  own,  dear,  are,  I  ween, 
Sweetest  eyes. 
— Set  to  music  by  Ethelbert  Nevin. 


WHEN  IT  IS  DAY 

NOT  till  the  sunshine  of  her  eyes 
Irradiates  my  heart  and  way; 
Not  till  the  mists  of  absence  rise 
Am  I  made  conscious  it  is  day. 
76 


REFUSAL 

TWAS  said  so  tenderly, 
"No,  dear,  it  cannot  be" ; 
Her  gentle  sympathy 

Half  the  hurt  mending. 
Still  'tis  a  grievous  blow, 
And  it  is  hard  to  know, 
After  my  caring  so 
This  is  the  ending. 

Ah,  well !  another  flower — 
Child  of  both  sun  and  shower, 
Earth's  fairest,  sweetest  dower — 

Mown  by  the  Reaper ; 
Yet  in  my  memory  pent, 
Stays  that  sweet  flower's  scent; 
And  all  my  prayers  are  blent 

With  one,  "God  keep  her." 


THY    FACE 
God's  own  smile  came  out; 
That  was  thy  face. — BROWNING. 

O  GENTLE  friend  that  standest  near 
My  heart,  if  in  my  face  be  shown 
What  seems  to  thee,  God's  smile — 'tis,  dear, 
But  the  reflection  of  thine  own. 


77 


EXILED  FROM  LOVE 

EXILED  indeed  from  love  and  joy! 
No  more  the  sunshine  of  her  eyes 
Will  light  the  pathway  of  my  hope 
To  Paradise. 

What  though  God's  angel  drives  me  forth 

From  peace,  and  all  return  denies  1 
It  is  enough  that  I  have  been 
In  Paradise. 

What  though  my  heart  forever  ache! 

What  though  my  eyes  forever  weep ! 
Her  loving  lips  hath  given  me 
A  kiss  to  keep. 

What  exile  can  proscribe  my  thoughts, 
Or  banish  me  from  memory  even? 
They  will  return,  and  through  the  bars 
Look  into  Heaven. 


ONLY  THE  SONG 

OF  praise  and  fame  alone  the  embers 
Make  warm  the  singer's  lot; 
It  is  the  Song,  the  world  remembers — 
The  singer  is  forgot. 


78 


WHEN  LOVE  IS  DONE 

WHEN  love  is  done,  is  nature's  sigh; 
The  Poet  saith,  "With  dying  sun 
The  world's  light  dies" ;  but  all  things  die, 
When  love  is  done. 

Love's  skies  with  clouds  are  overrun; 

The  birds  of  trustfulness  fly  by; 
Hope's  blossoms  wither  one  by  one. 

What  does  the  world's  praise  signify — 

Or,  what  its  prizes  e'en  when  won? 
For  me — I  only  wish  to  die, 
When  love  is  done. 


AUF  WIEDERSEHEN 

WHY  mourn  the  soon-departing  rose? 
Doth  not  June  say,  Auf  Wiedersehenf 
What  more  enrapturing  words  than  those 
That  whisper,  "We  shall  meet  again?" 


79 


"SEND  FOR  ME!" 

ND  when  you  want  me,  send  for  me!' 

I  wonder  if  you  really  meant, 
Or,  only  you  did  not  foresee, 

All  that  was  in  this  promise  pent? 

How  could  I  help  but  want  you,  dear, 
Who  bring  the  sunshine  to  my  room? 

Could  I,  but  always  want  you  near — 

The  rose  that  keeps  my  heart  abloom ! 

What  though  it  may  not  bloom  for  me! 

Its  blessedness   is   not   forsworn; 
While  'tis  my  joy  the  rose  to  see, 

'Tis   more — to   miss    it,   when   'tis   gone. 


80 


THE  ECHO  OF  A  SONG 

YOU  would  not  have  me  cease  to  sing? 
Do  you  not  still  some  comfort  find 
In  these  new  melodies  that  wing 
Their  constant  flight  from  heart  and  mind? 

From  somewhere  echoing  notes  must  come. 

If  you  forbid  the  singing,  then — 
If  doomed  forever  to  be  dumb, 

The  memory  will  sing  again. 

And  you,  who  have  so  fine  an  ear, 
Must  be  acquainted  with  that  song; 

Has  it  no  more  the  power  to  cheer? 
Or,  have  you  heard  the  strains  too  long? 

If  I  my  homage  must  forego, 

And  I  no  more  may  ply  my  art, 
The  song  although  unvoiced,  you  know 

Will  still  keep  singing  in  my  heart. 


81 


T 


THE  SNOW  IS  IN  MY  HAIR 

HE  snow  is  in  my  hair,  the  frost  is  in  my  frame, 
The  hopes  of  youth,  in  age  can  never  be  the  same. 


I  would  not  have  you  suffer  pain  and  vain  regret, 
Perhaps  'twere  better  that  we  both  should  now  forget, 

Though  it  has  been  a  rare  and  wondrous  episode 
Upon  life's  wearisome  and  uneventful  road. 

But  though,  alas !  our  hands  must  tear  themselves  apart. 
I  still  shall  keep  this  lovely  blossom  of  your  heart, 

The  sweetest,  dearest  gift  of  life,  to  me,  e'en  though 
To  fullest  bloom  it  may  for  neither  of  us  grow. 

With  such  delight  I  hold  you  in  my  heart's  esteem 
No  minor  chords  can  ever  mar  the  happy  dream. 

Tis  only  passion  robs  the  casket  of  its  gem, 
But  my  pure  thought  stoops  but  to  kiss  your  garment's 
hem; 

The  Primrose  path  my  faithful  feet  have  left  untrod; 
That  door  I  have  kept  locked,  and  left  the  key  with 
God; 

It  is  to  friendship  all  my  votive  lays  belong, 
And  no  regretful  tears  shall  interrupt  this  song; 

The  memories  of  your  ministry  my  life  perfume, 
And  how  can  I  forget  you  made  the  desert  bloom? 
82 


JUNE  IN  CORTINA 

DEAR  departed  June, 
Thou  has  left  this  boon — 

My  own  heart  with  fragrance,  joy  and  hope  is  still  in 
tune. 

Was  there  ever  known 
Rose  that  kept  full  blown 
For  so  long,  with  all  its  grace  and  beauty  still  unflown? 

Does  it  bring  to  you 
Memories  anew, 
That  still  seek  a  resting  place,  and  will  not  say,  Adieu? 

Why  must  we  thus  part? 
Has  the  minstrel's  art 

Failed   to  mend   the  broken   strings   that   sang   within 
your  heart? 

Is  affection  lost? 
Can  life  pay  the  cost, 
If  love,  like  a  faded  rose,  from  the  heart  be  tossed? 

If  it  have  not  grace 
To  fill  the  empty  vase, 
Back  on  my  own  heart  'twill  turn,  for  an  abiding  place. 


t) 


ABSENCE 

SWEET  Friend,  since  you  have  gone  away, 
The  stitches  in  life's  web  are  dropped; 
All  uneventful  is  the  day, 
The  music  in  my  heart  is  stopped, 

As  humming  of  a  summer  bee 

Upon  a  broken  window  pane, 
When  suddenly  he  is  set  free; 

Then  silence  comes  to  brood  again. 


THE  UNATTAINED 

I  GAVE  my  winged  steed  full  rein, 
And  in  imagination's  skies 
Found  what  on  earth  I  sought  in  vain — 
For  art  may  give  what  love  denies. 

From  life's  desires  the  mind  hath  wrought 

A  purer  and  diviner  flame, 
Which  even  visualizes  thought 

With  new  delights,  beyond  a  name. 

This  ideal  love  is  what  I've  sought 
To  fill  my  need,  and  be  life's  guest; 

Love  were  a  dream,  unless  my  thought 
Fulfilled  the  promise  of  the  quest. 

84 


TO  KNOW  LOVE  CARETH  STILL 

I  SENT  my  soul  into  the  invisible, 
Some  wistful  word  my  far-off  friend  to  tell; 
And  this  is  what  my  soul  brought  back  to  me : — 
To  know  love  carcth  still,  and  all  is  well. 

Though  searching  eyes  thy  face  no  longer  see, 
My  soul  is  never  far,  sweet  friend,  from  thee. 

What  though  the  hands  be  sundered?     Heart  to 

heart, 
In   thought,   love  ever  holdeth   thee   and  me. 


LOVE'S  SONG  SINGS  EVER 

IN  the  heart  love's  song  sings  ever, 
Though  the  eyes  are  brimmed  with  tears; 
Sings  with  an  increasing  sweetness. 
Through  the  echoing  arch  of  years. 

And  it  stays,  and  haunts  the  silence, 

When  heart's  love  is  laid  away, 
Like  the  singing  harp-string's  whisper, 
When  the  hands  have  ceased  to  play. 

— Set  to  music  by  Liza  Lehman. 

and  G.  Marschal  Loepke. 


ENTREATY 

LOVE  hath  invited  you  and  me — 
A  glimpse  of  Eden  to  restore — 
To  spend  our  lives  in  Arcady; 

If  Love  should  seek  to  close  the  door, 
Why  need  affection  wish  to  fly 

From  fate  and  Love's  divine  behest? 
A  willing  prisoner  am  I 
If  you  are  a  contented  guest. 

Love  hath  invited  you  and  me, 

And  waits  God's  word  to  close  the  door; 
And  well  provided  you  will  be 

With  his  abundant  care  and  store. 
And  why  distrust  the  forge  and  fire 

That  welds  love's  bonds  inseparably? 
True  love  brings  to  disrobed  desire 

The  garments  of  God's  purity. 


MARRIAGE 

/WILL  thy  lot  and  portion  share; 
Will  love  and  honor  thce,  and  fill 
The  measure  of  thy  need,  whate'er 
I  will.  , 

This  tender  flower  cherish,  till 

In  Heaven  it  blooms  more  bright  and  fair — 
For  love  in  Heaven  will  blossom  still; 

And  love's  fair  flower  hath  made  thee  heir 

To  a  new  life,  beyond  death's  chill; 
Eternity  hath  heard  this  dear, 
"I  will." 
— Set  to  music  by  Ethelbert  Nevin. 


87 


EPITHALAMIUM 

NOW  in  very  truth  thou  art, 
Sweetheart,  mine; 
Mine  to  hold  close  to  my  heart; 
Mine  to  have,  and  ever  prove, 
Arcady  is  in  my  love, 
Sweetheart  mine. 

But  before  the  nuptial  door, 

Sweetheart  mine, 
Closes  on  the  nevermore, 
That  first  troth  I  would  approve — 
Arcady  is  in  thy  love, 

Sweetheart  mine. 

Folded  in  my  happy  arms, 

Sweetheart  mine, 

Crowned  with  love's  transcendent  charms, 
Thy  content  and  rapture  prove, 
Arcady  is  mutual  love, 

Sweetheart  mine. 

— Set  to  music  by  Ethelbert  Nevin. 


88 


PATERNITY 

A  CLOUD  came  darkening  up  the   west, 
And  as  its  awesome  pall  drew  near, 
It  hushed  the  home  with  vague  unrest, 
And  filled  my  heart  with  nameless  fear. 

I  heard  a  rustle  as  of  wings, 
And  turning  saw  Death's  angel  fill 

The  room;  then  froze  life's  very  springs 
Within  me,  and  my  heart  stood  still. 

The  dreadful  presence,  in  the  gloom, 
Bent  o'er  my  love,  smiled,  and  went  by; 

When  from  the  stillness  of  the  room 
There  faintly  came — a  little  cry. 

And  lo !  from  heaven  an  angel  throng, 
As  on  that  old-time  Christmas  morn, 

Took  up  anew  their  happy  song, 
"For  unto  you  a  child  is  born." 


89 


BIRTHDAY 

THE  bells  were  told  to  ring  in  glee 
The  day  when  first  thou  cam'st  to  be 
Our  home's  delight;  and  in  my  heart, 
By  love's  supreme,  mysterious  art, 
These  bells  have  rung  unceasingly. 

And  on  this  day  there  comes  to  me 
Anew  the  tender  memory 

Of  that  deep  joy,  which  but  in  part 
The  bells  were  told. 

Dear  child,  in  whose  sweet  eyes  I  see 
The  Heaven  that  waits  above  for  me, 

How  far  from  me  would  Heaven  depart ; 

How  comfortless  would  be  my  heart, 
If  through  some  darkened  day  for  thee 
The  bells  were  tolled! 


90 


MORE  TO  BE  DESIRED  THAN  GOLD 
— From  the  Persian. 

OKING,  'tis  justice  that  I  ask  of  thee, 
And  for  an  equal  service  but  demand 
The   same    reward.     Wherein    excelleth   he? 

And  yet  the  ring  thou  gavest  him  is  made 
Of  purer  gold  than  that  thou  gavest  me. 

Nay,  nay.    Of  equal  valor,  loyalty 
And  truth  hold  I  ye  two — first  in  the  realm; 

And  I  commanded  that  the  rings  should  be 
Of  equal  fineness  and  of  equal  weight. 

How  have  I  an  injustice  wrought  on  theef 

O  king!  this  is  indeed  the  truth — in  part; 

But  with  the  ring  thou  gavest  him  a  kiss ; 
That  kiss  hath  given — beyond  the  goldsmith's  art- 

An  added  weight  and  fineness  to  the  gold, 
For  with  that  kiss,  O  king,  there  went  thy  heart. 


91 


CHRISTMAS 

San  Francisco,  1880. 

THE  Christmas  Bells  from  hill  and  tower 
To-night  their  benedictions  shower; 
And  on  the  waves  of  their  sweet  chimes, 
Fond  thoughts  of  home  and  olden  times 
Set  sail  through  memory's  Golden  Gate ; 
Deep  laden  with  love's  precious  freight, 
They  speed  their  homeward  course  to-night, 
Across  the  sea,  with  Ariel  flight. 

O  you,  who  wait  returning  sails, 
Whose  eyes  hope  long  deferred  o'erveils 
With  lowering  clouds,  take  heart  again  1 
For  lo!  unseen  through  mist  and  rain 
Of  tears,  a  thousand  white-winged  keels, 
Afloat  on  billowy  Christmas  peals, 
Seek  haven  in  your  hearts  to-night, 
Home  guided  by  love's  beacon  light. 

Dear  friends,  though  sundered  far  and  wide, 

Though  varied  quests  our  thoughts  divide, 

May  these  rich  argosies  of  love 

My  tender,  faithful  memory  prove! 

May  they  to-night  new  love  awake, 

And  in  this  festal  season  make 

Your  hearts  forget  the  old  farewells, 

In  greetings  brought  by  Christmas  Bells! 

92 


TRUE    PATRIOTISM 

LIFE'S  Rescript  simply  is  to  climb, 
Unheeding  danger,  toil  and  tire; 
Failure  hath  no  attaint  of  crime, 
If  one  persistently  aspire. 

Kinship  with  God  makes  men  desire 
To  hold  the  world  in  closer  grip, 

And  through  love's  gentleness  acquire 
An  altruistic  fellowship. 

These  aspirations  have  attained 
Ideals  for  which  this  Country  stands, 

For   which   our   fathers   died — now  gained 
And  delegated  to  our  hands. 

This  heritage  of  trust  and  weal 

Has  now  become  the  world's  great  hope 
For  freedom  from  Oppression's  heel, 

For  Aspiration's  wider  scope. 

To  this  world-call,  have  we  reply 
Other  than  that  our  fathers  gave? 

To  guard  this  trust,  what  if  we  die, 
If  dying  is  the  way  to  save! 

Humanity  hath  instant  need 
Of  loyalty  that  seeks  to  serve, 

And  even  though  death  were  its  meed, 
From  its  ideal  it  would  not  swerve. 


Life  would  have  nothing  worth  to  give, 
Had  men  not  for  their  duty  died; 

True  patriots  would  scorn  to  live 
If  they  the  sacrifice  denied. 

O  ye  who  love  the  soul's  free  air, 
Who  seek  the  larger  hope,  arise! 

For  truth  and  justice  do  and  dare! 
Who  cares  to  live  when  Freedom  dies? 


NEW  YEAR 

ANOTHER  flower  this  day  I  bring— 
Love's  unassuming  offering; 
Perchance  it  may  a  fragrance  leave, 
That  will  a  pleasant  memory  weave 
Through  all  the  year  now  opening. 

This  day  to  you  fond  wishes  wing; 
Dear  heart,  may  their  sweet  blossoming 
In  life's  fair  garden  interweave 
Another  flower! 

And  may  a  quiet  fragrance  cling 
To  every  flower  the  kind  fates  fling 

About  your  path ;  ne'er  cause  to  grieve 
May  your  contented  heart  receive ; 
And  each  succeeding  year  still  bring 
Another  flower! 


94 


MUSIC   IN  THE  AIR 

"  \  LAS1    I  cannot  sing," 

-£*•  You  sighed  awhile  ago; 
But  odors  of  the  Spring 

Nor  rhyme  nor  rhythm  know ; 
And  perfumes  of  the  rose 
One  hardly  would  call  prose. 

There  is  no  need  to  be 

A  lark  or  nightingale 
To  turn  to  poesy 

E'en  life's  habitual,  "Hail"; 
A  friendly  hand  and  heart 
Exceed  the  ministrel's  art. 

The  world  is  all  a-tune, 

And  all  the  leaves  beat  time, 
And  even  winter's  rune 

Presages  Springtime's  rhyme; 
And  friendship  in  heart-beats 
Life's  rhythm  but  repeats. 


95 


L'ENVOI 

MAY  friendship's  ministry  to  thee  be  kind, 
And  all  life's  sad  remembrances  efface! 
Bring  back  the  joys,  reluctantly  resigned 
To  hope!    And  that  thou  mayest  their  comfort  find, 
I  wish  thee  thine  own  wish  in  every  place! 

May  my  poor  measures  also  hearten  thee, 
And  all  the  singing  stops  of  joy  release! 

May  they  retune  the  inharmonious  key, 
And  lend  to  life's  completed  melody 
An  undertone  of  sweet  content  and  peace! 


96 


AFTERGLOW 


rHE  symbol  does  not  more 
Than  faintly  shadow  the  reality; 
The  exquisite  and  evanescent  rose 

May  open  wide  the  door 
Of  Beauty,  but  it  cannot  ever  be 
Th'  Unknown  alone  should  to  the  soul  disclose 

Itself  in  symbol's  lore; 
That  life  the  soul  conceives,  eternity 
Breathes  now,  and  immortality  bestows. 


98 


CONSIDER  THE  LILIES 

Matt.  VI.  28-29. 


LIKE  one  of  these,  art  hath  not  made 
Apparel  that  our  eyes  can  please; 
Even  Solomon  was  not  arrayed 
Like  one  of  these. 

Consider  how  they  grow  at  ease 

And  leisure,  dancing  in  the  glade 
Like  butterflies  upon  the  breeze. 

Then  be  not  thou  with  burdens  weighed ; 

If  He  a  flower's  need  o'ersees, 
Thou,  too,  shalt  on  His  care  be  laid, 
Like  one  of  these. 


99 


WHAT  THE  CHILD-SOUL  SAID  TO  THE 
MOTHER 

In  heaven  their  angels  do  always  behold  the  face  o 
my  father.— MATT.  xvin.  10. 

AS  I  beheld  God's  face, 
I  heard  Love  calling  me 
Out  of  the  boundless  space, 
Across  life's  mystery. 
Across  life's  mystery 
Will  grief  and  pain  wait  me, 

If  I,  beguiled,  become  a  child, 
And  come  to  dwell  with  thee? 

But  love  constraineth  me 

With  its  soft,  mother  call, 
And  I  must  needs  choose  thee 

To  bear  me  through  earth's  thrall. 

To  bear  me  through  earth's  thrall, 
Up  to  love's  highest  bliss, 

I  need  to  know  Life's  weal  and  woe, 
And  feel  a  mother's  kiss. 

So  I  have  come  to  thee, 

In  thy  white  arms  to  stay, 
That  thou  may'st  mother  me 

Through  life's  uncertain  way. 

Through  life's  uncertain  way 
Love,  too,  shall  make  thee  blest, 

Until  at  last,  our  travail  past, 
Both  find  love's  perfect  rest. 
100 


WHY  FEAR? 

"Why  fear  death?  It  is  the  most  beautiful  adventure 
in  life. — The  last  words  of  Charles  Frohman  on  the 
sinking  Lusitania. 

WHY  should  I  fear  death's  call?    Can  there  e'«r  be 
In  life  more  beautiful  adventure,  than 
To  re-embark  upon  that  unknown  sea — 
That  mystery  from  which  love  summoned  me — 
Upon  whose  hither  shore  my  life  began? 

So  gently  was  I  brought,  that  when  life  laid 

Me  on  time's  bosom  I  was  not  aware; 
And  when  at  length  I  knew  that  I  was  made 
Like  her  who  bore  me,  then  no  more  afraid 

Was  I,  lest  love  should  fail  of  tender  care. 

And  when  with  an  instructed  mind,  I  read 
The  law  that  nature  hath  to  me  revealed, 
I  know  His  love  will  satisfy  each  need, 
That  life's  adventurous  hope  will  find  its  meed, 
And  every  lacerated  heart  be  healed. 

And  I  have  learned,  He  doeth  all  things  well. 

Yet  life,  from  its  own  incompleteness,  holds 
A  need,  instinctive,  which  it  cannot  tell — 
Of  future  greeting  for  each  last  farewell, 

Of  happiness,  united  love  enfolds. 


101 


All  forms  of  life  are  endless ;  each  frail  vase 

Is  emptied  o'er  and  o'er — but  filled  again; 
And  never  tangled  is  the  wondrous  maze 
Of  nature's  melodies  through  endless  days — 
And  yet  forever  new  and  sweet  to  men. 

Gleams  hint  that  life  upon  some  future  waits; 

The  worm  cannot  forecast  the  butterfly; 
And  yet  the  transformation  but  creates 
A  step  in  the  same  Nature  which  now  mates 

Our  own — and  may  life's  mystery  untie. 

The  butterfly,  new-fledged  this  message  brings: 

"The  law,  uncompreh ended,  I  obey; 
Although  the  lowliest  of  earth-bred  things, 
Even  I  have  been  reborn  with  urgent  wings, 

And  heavenward  fly — who  crept  but  yesterday.' 

The  earth  hath  given  me  its  honied  store; 

In  its  fair  garden  I  have  had  my  day; 
Now,  unknown  lengthening  vistas  to  explore, 
I  set  my  face  unto  that  other  shore, 

And  with  this  new  adventure  end  the  Play. 

In  life's  fair  mansion  I  am  but  a  guest 

And  life  will  bring  fulfillment  of  the  gleam; 
I  trust  this  last  adventure  is  the  best, 
The  crowning  of  this  earthly  life's  behest, 
The  consummation  of  the  poet's  dream. 


102 


EASTER 

RISE  I"  went  forth  a  mighty  voice,  "all  ye 
That  sleep  1"    O  earthborn  lily,  who  told  thee 
To  come  forth  with  the  living  from  the  dead? 
The  white-robed  lily  answered,  "The  great  head 
And  heart  of  Nature,  God  himself,  called  me. 

"He  said,  'The  Christ  is  risen !'  and  tenderly 
My  earthy  cerements  loosing,  He  bade  me, 

Too, — following  the  way  the  Christ  hath  led — 
Arise." 

Trust  thou  this  promised  Immortality, 
O  troubled,  doubting  heart !     Fear  not  that  He, 
Who  wakes  the  lowly  lily  from  her  bed, 
Whose  own  hands  loose  the  graveclothes  from  her 

head, 

Will  Easter  Day  forget  to  say  to  thee, 
"Arise  I" 


103 


A  WHISPER  OF  HEAVEN 

IMPRISONED  in  the  shell 
Are  echoes  of  the  far-off  ocean's  roar. 
May  not  our  hopes  of  Immortality, 
That  deep  within  us  dwell — 
Instinctive  to  the  soul,  and  more  and  more 
Insistent  to  the  heart — may  they  not  be 

Soul  echoes  of  the  swell, 
That  ceaseless  beats  on  an  Eternal  shore? 


T 


THEN  COMETH  THE  NIGHT 

HE  sun  hath  set — but  set  hath  not  my  love ; 
Not  set,  only  obscured  by  clouds  above. 
The  sun  will  rise — but  love  was  earlier  up; 
And  with  content  and  joy  hath  filled  my  cup. 


It  cannot  be,  love's  sun  will  set,  for  lo ! 

Its  radiance  deepens  with  the  evening  glow; 
The  Night  fulfills  the  soul's  envisioned  gleam, 
And  is  the  consummation  of  love's  dream. 


104 


THE  CALL  OF  THE  SEA 

THE  sea,  the  crooning,  mothering  sea 
And  human  sympathy — together. 
The  sea  was  ever  kind  to  me, 
And  sweet  is  human  sympathy. 

I  hear  the  call,  but  know  not  whether 
'Tis  from  the  sea, — or,  dear,  from  thee. 

Although  the  sea  inspires  like  wine, 
Without  Love's  touch — so  deft  at  smoothing 

Care's  rumpled  pillow — I  would  pine; 

And  though  broad-breasted  and  benign, 
Do  pain  and  heartache  find  their  soothing 

Upon  her  bosom — or  on  thine? 

The  sea  hath  harmonies  that  throng 
The  soul,  some  answering  chord  entreating; 

But  do  these  strains,  heart-tuned  and  strong, 

To  ocean's  orchestra  belong? 
The  sea's  refrain,  are  they  repeating? — 

Or  are  they  thy  fond,  wistful  song? 


105 


SINGING  HARP-STRINGS 

LIFE  holds  no  music  like  the  symphony 
Of  heart-caressing  chords  that  throb  and  thrill 
Under  the  friendly  hand  of  sympathy; 

It  haunts  my  loneliness ;  that  harp-string's  trill 
Still  sings  within  my  heart  its  melody 
E'en  though  to  other  ears  the  harp  is  still. 


A  BRIDAL   SONG 

ONCE  a  little  wandering  Sunbeam, 
In  celestial  tire  arrayed, 
Came,  and  filled  our  home  with  sunshine, — 
And  behold!  the  sunshine  stayed; 

Filled  the  home  with  smiles  and  laughter, 

Kept  the  bloom  upon  the  rose, 
Gave  to  life  new  heart  and  savor, 

Until  now — the  sunshine  goes. 

Though  the  hearthstone  be  o'erclouded, 
Love  knows, — though  the  footsteps  roam, 

Our  dear  Sunbeam  keeps  on  shining; 
It  but  lights  another  home. 


106 


HEAVEN  IS  HERE 

AND  where  is  Heaven,  think'st  thou? 
Beyond  earth's  boundary — 
So  hid  in  mystery, 
We  reach  it  only  at  life's  end, 

And  know 
Not  even  where,  nor  when,  nor  how? 

Not  sol 
If  we  but  rightly  apprehend, 

It  is  the  love  in  mother's  eyes ; 
It  is  the  pledge  of  nature's  skies, 
The  blossoming  devotion  of  the  bough; 
It  is   in  baby's  happy  smiles, 
In   sympathy,  that  grief  beguiles, 
And  in  true  service  to  a  friend. 
My  Heaven  ever  lies 
In  love's  dear  eyes, — 

In  tender  words,  that  deathless  trust  avow. 
Love  is  creation's  source  and  end, 

The  purpose  of  the  world  God  planned ; 
Love  is  the  only  Promised  Land, 
And  love  is  Heaven — and  Heaven  is  here  and  now. 


107 


THE  DIVINE  SECRET 

WHEN  we  together  set  our  sail 
The  hither  shore  of  love  to  find, 
What  terrene  tides  or  winds  avail 
To  reach  the  goal  hid  in  the  mind? 

Earth's  heights  and  depths  may  be  explored, 
But  love's  domain  can  never  be ; 

Immeasurable,  it  stretches  toward 
The  confines  of  Eternity. 

Imagination's  realm  is  fair, 

And  argosies  of  beauty  sail 
From  that  mysterious  region  where 

Only  God's  love  may  lift  the  veil. 

God's  love  is  joy.    The  universe 

Is  vibrant  with  creative  song, 
Whose  harmonies  His  love  rehearse, 

And  His  beneficence  prolong. 

God's  joy  is  love,  which  Nature  hides 
In  flower  and  tree,  in  clay  and  man; 

And  her  behests  are  sovereign  guides, 
Because  interpreting  God's  plan. 

And  from  these  dimly  visioned  heights, 
E'en  though  the  way  seems  barred,  the  soul 

God's  purposed  happiness  invites, 
To  compass  and  complete  life's  whole. 

< 

108 


THE  VISION  FROM  THE  HEIGHTS 

Isaiah  LII.  7. 

HOW  beautiful  upon 
The  mountains  are  the  feet 
Of  them  that  tidings  bring 
Of  Love — God's  own  heartbeat! 

Upon  the  mountain  tops 

The  soul  steps  from  the  sod 
Of  earthly  thought  upon 

A  nearer  path  to  God; 

And  finds  His  perfectness, 
As   from   each  summit  gained 

There  stretch  forth  heights  beyond — 
Ideals  to  be  attained. 

What  though  they  be  obscured 

By  mists  of  earth's  desire  1 
Above  the  clouds  their  peaks 

Eternally  aspire. 


109 


THE  MOUNTAINS  ARE  HIS  TEMPLE 

IF  just  beyond  earth's  veiling  clouds  is  heaven, 
Then  surely  here  a  path  to  heaven  is  given ; 
For,  far  beyond  the  reach  of  human  eye, 
Stretch  peak  on  peak  into  the  eternal  sky, 
As  stepping  stones,  which  shape  an  earthly  stair 
To  knowledge  of  God's  constancy  and  care — 
To  apprehension  of  His  presence  and 
The  nearness  of  His  all-supporting  hand. 

Here  the  o'er-arching  sky  bends  down  to  cloister  weary 

feet 
That  from  life's  pilgrimage  and  empty  quest  seek  a 

retreat. 

More  grand  than  earthly  temple  is  this  shrine; 
Its  aisles  are  carpeted  with  velvet  pine; 
Its  altars  incensed  with  the  breath  of  fir, 
Whose  organ  notes  men's  hearts  to  freedom  stir; 
Its  windows  glow  with  every  gorgeous  hue 
From  prismed  sunrise  to  the  midday  blue, 
And  only  earth-begotten  blindness  bars 
His  presence  from  the  sunset  and  the  stars. 

The  raptured  soul  finds  peace  and  joy  in  this  majestic 

fane, 
Renews  its  faith,  and  with  new  strength  takes  up  life's 

tasks  again. 


110 


THE  NEW  DAWN 

THE  world  would  say,  my  friend  is  dead- 
Hath  rested  from  this  earthly  strife; 
But  faith  holds,  he  hath  onward  sped, 
And  hath  but  found  a  larger  life. 

Is  life's  poor  structure  all  we  build, 
Whose  tenure's  bound  is  but  a  breath? 

Has  life  the  law  of  love  fulfilled? 
Or,  why  abides  love  after  death? 

Too  dimly  does  life's  vision  see 

The  loving  Tenderness  above; 
And  life  needs  an  eternity 

To  know  this  all-encircling  love. 


ill 


AN   EASTER  THOUGHT 

THE  lilies  hear  the  Easter  call, 
And  wake  their  promise  to  repeat. 
Why  should  the  cypress  wreath  appal? 
Can  aught  to  love  and  thee  befall, 
Where  bides  the  imprint  of  His   feet? 


HEAVEN  ENFOLDS  US  ALL 

WHAT  matters  it  the  name  we  bear, 
Or  how  God's  word  is  understood? 
We  trust  His  love  enfolds  us  all, 
And  know  His  name  is,  Good. 


IN  HIS  SERVICE 

THE  World  maintains,  the  sum  of  living 
Is  what  is  gained,  but  Love  conceives, 
Life's  satisfaction  is   in  giving — 
And  not  what  it  receives. 


112 


LOVE  IS  THE  FULFILLING  OF  THE  LAW 

TO  one  who  reads  with  an  instructed  mind 
The  book  of  law,  that  nature  hath  unclosed, 
Conviction  comes  that  He  who  guides  the  stars — 
Who  gathereth  into  His  benignant  arms 
The  lambs,  and  feedeth  them,  who  slumbers  not, 
Nor  sleeps — can  have  no  other  name  than  LOVE. 
And  love — this  tender  human  love,  that  walks 
With  us  through  life  in  various  guise,  that  shares 
Our  burdens,  soothes  our  sorrows,  leads  us  even 
Beyond  death's  portal — is  God's  thought  in  us 
That  hints  the  measure  of  His  love  and  care. 
The  Master  came,  with  love  ineffable, 
And  told  of  kinship  with  that  loving  law, 
And  taught  a  human  phrase,  "Our  Father."     But 
On  loftier  heights  of  thought,  the  soul  perceives 
That  God  is  even  nearer — immanent, 
And  templed  in  His  own  enduring  love; 
And  through  the  cloistered  arches  of  this  love — 
The  dwelling-place  of  God — there  echoes  back 
That  still,  small  Voice  which  spake  on  Horeb's  mount ; 
And  the  awakened  soul,  because  it  hath 
An  ear  to  hear  this  Heavenly  Visitor, 
Affirms  its  birthright  to  divinity, 
And  claims  its  own  identity  with  God. 

Upon  the  restful  bosom  of  this  Love 
Divine,  the  soul  is  satisfied,  and  in 


113 


Supreme  content,  bears  witness  in  itself, 
That  love  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  Law. 


SUFFER  THE  CHILDREN 

Mark  X.  14. 

"OUFFER  the  children  to  come  unto  me!" 
*^-J  In  this,  the  Master's  word,  must  my  trust  be. 

How  can  I  make  my  life  spotless  and  sweet, 
That  I  lead  not  astray  these  little  feetl 

How  can  I,  all  begrimed,  bound  in  sin's  bands, 
Ever  be  fit  to  hold  these  little  hands  1 

If  but  my  soul  were  pure,  strong  to  withstand, 
I  might  the  children  lead  to  Thy  right  hand ; 

I  am  but  weak,  and  so  my  prayer  must  be : 
"Suffer  the  children  to  come  unto  Thee !" 


114 


A  GOLDEN  WEDDING 

THE  day  was  fair,  the  sky  aglow, 
That  greeted  you,  a  happy  pair, 
A   full  half  century  ago; 
Now,  to  what  hosts — this  day  is  fair  I 

Those  wedding  bells  for  fifty  years 
Have  rung  alternate  joys  and  knells, 

Till  now  a  deepened  Icve  endears 
The  memory  of  those  wedding  bells. 

With  spreading  vine  new  leaves  are  grown ; 

So  children's  children  interwine 
Affection's  tendrils,  till  is  thrown 

A  fresher  shade — with  spreading  vine. 

Each  brings  his  meed  of  truth  unstained — 
The  fruitage  of  well-nurtured  seed; 

And  from  each  added  talent  gained 
In  wisdom's  ways,  each  brings  his  meed. 

To-day  all  bring  a  new  largesse 
Of  loving  greeting — a  new  Ring 

To  plight,  with  that  old-time  caress, 
The  blessings  which  to-day  all  bring. 

These  fifty  years  to  you  have  brought 
Much  more  of  happiness  than  tears ; 

While  life  has  many  lessons  taught 
Of  mutual  trust,  these  fifty  years; 

115 


And  life  has  taught,  that  hearts  are  worn, 
If  not  upheld  by  constant  thought; 

That  burdens  shared  are  easiest  borne ; 
That  love  needs  sunshine — life  has  taught. 

As  years  go  by,  with  ruddier  glow 
May  love  adorn  your  sunset  sky! 

And  closer  may  your  hearts  still  grow, 
And  life  be  joy— as  years  go  by! 

This  golden  stair,  you  pass  to-day — 

May  it  foretell  a  vision  rare 
Of  joy — when  ends  this  mortal  Way, 

And  where  begins  Life's  Golden  Stair ! 
August  21,  1917. 


THE  MASTER  SAITH 

WHEN  Love  hath  satisfied  thy  heart, 
Is't  for  thyself  alone  to  keep? 
0  wakened  Soul,  what  is  thy  part? 
The  Master  saith,  "Feed  thou  my  sheep!" 


116 


LOVE'S    ETERNAL    TROTH. 

SWEET  is  the  pain  when  lovers  part — 
Each  passioned   kiss   love's   troth   repeating ; 
But  every  parting  kiss  enfolds 
The  promise  of  another  meeting. 

So  Love  plights  an  eternal  troth 

From  realms  beyond  our  vision's  charting; 
And  every  kiss  is  Love's  new  pledge, 

To  be  redeemed,  despite  death's  parting. 

Take  heart !  'Tis  only  for  a  while, 
And  absence  makes  the  lost  ones  dearer; 

Love  wins  the  victory  over  death, 
That  brings  the  promised  meeting  nearer. 


117 


EYE  HATH  NOT  SEEN 

It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be. 

I  John  III:  2. 

O  GRIEVING  ones,  whose  feet  still  linger 
About  the  headstones  love  hath  reared, 
The  grave  holds  not  the  dear  affection, 
Which  is  by  memory  so  revered. 

Think  you  that,  "Earth  to  earth"  is  nature's 

Obituary  for  the  dead? 
Nay;  it  is  rather  life's  own  promise 

That  nature's  round  it  still  will  tread. 

What  we  call  death  is  but  the  changing 
Of  outward  form  of  garments  shed; 

And  for  their  rehabilitation 
This  pall  of  earth  has  been  o'erspread. 

For  in  the  boundless  realm  of  nature 
Not  even  the  smallest  atom  dies — 

But  strives,  through  endless  transformations, 
New  shapes  of  beauty  to  devise. 

As  elements  resolve  in  order, 
And  in  predestined  moulds  divide, 

Who  knows  in  what  new  forms  of  beauty 
May  love  and  joy  and  memory  hide? 


118 


BE  YE  COMFORTED 
Red  Cross  Relief  for  the  Bereaved. 

"OOMEWHERE  in  France,"  she  said,  "there  is  a  grave, 

O     Which  all  my  hope  and  happiness  contains — 
My  boy,  my  first-born,  beautiful  and  brave, 
Who  mother,  wife  and  home — and  all  things  gave, 
To  prove  that  loyalty  to  right  still  reigns." 

What  has  the  world  to  give,  that  can  repay 

For  such  devotion  and  self-sacrifice? 
And  what  are  plaudits,  praise  and  crowning  bay 
To  those  who  grieve  for  lost  ones,  torn  away 

From  life? — and  it  is  they  who  pay  the  price. 

Where  is  the  healing  balm,  that  can  assuage 

This   mortal   hurt,   and   tender   soothing   bring? 
Life's  song  is  stilled — the  bird  gone  from  the  cage, 
And  tears  bedim  the  mind's   sustaining  page, 
That  once  was  wont  to  give  the  spirit  wing. 

Within  the  heart  the  solace  will  be  found, 

For  it  has  learned,  a  Larger  Love  controls ; 

And  though  with  earthly  garments  love  is  wound, 

It  is  not  to  this  earth  forever  bound, 
For  to  its   sight   eternity  unrolls. 

Behind  the  cloud  of  doubt  there  is  a  light 

That  bids  the  lonely,  sorrowing  heart  rejoice; 


119 


Nature  herself  gives  promise  to  requite 
Love's  loss —  that  we  shall  have  love  back  to  sight, 
And  hear  again  its  un forgotten  voice. 

Why  may  love  suffer  death — and  not  be  killed? 

And  how  can  memory  haunt  this  life — and  then, 
Forgetting  all,  forever  more  be  stilled? 
Life  would  be  vain  if  love  were  unfulfilled ; 

Love  is,  itself,  the  pledge,  it  lives  again. 

That  love,  which  ever  stronger  grows,  constrains 
Belief,  the  After  Life  is  no  Perchance; 

It  cannot  be,  the  Loving  Care  ordains 

That  for  eternity  death's  hand  detains 

Heart's   love   in    that   dumb   grave   somewhere   in 
France. 


TRUST 

WHEN  we  this  earthly  chrysalis  discard, 
Existence   may   have   unimagined   charms. 
Why  need  we  fear,  because  to  vision  barred? 
Beyond  all  thought  and  vistas  yet  unstarred, 
Are  still  the  Everlasting  Arms. 


120 


PARTING 

BE  pitiful  with  thy  keen  sorrow, 
Inexorable  and  dread  to-morrow  I 
Take  her  in  gentle  arms  alway; 
Soothe  her  with  thoughts  of  yesterday! 

Hath  Yesterday  lost  its  charms 
To  soothe  To-day  in  her  white  arms? 
The  sun  can  ne'er  set,  chill  and  gray, 
Behind  the  hills  of  yesterday. 

Fear  not,  dear  friend  I     Close  to  my  heart 
Until  the  end  thou  ever  art; 
Too  close  to  leave  thee  room  to  borrow 
Such  sad  forebodings  of  the  morrow. 

Therefore,  dear  heart,  trust  hopefully! 
Time  cannot  part  my  thought  and  thee ; 
No  distance,  scene,  nor  age  can  stay, 
The  love  that  overflows  to-day. 

And,  dear,  in  heaven  to-morrows  stay 
No  more;  not  even  a  yesterday 
Can  ever  come  with  shadowed  brow 
To   darken  that   eternal   Now. 


121 


TRANSLATIONS 

LA    VIE 

T  A  -vie  est  vaine, 
M  <*  Un  peu  d'amour, 
Un  peu  de  haine; 

Et  puis — bonjour. 

La  vie  est  breve, 

Un  peu  d'espoir, 
Un  peu  de  reve; 

Et  puis — bonsoir." 

— Leon    Montenaeken. 


AH !  life  is  vain ; 
Short  is  love's  way, 
And  full  of  pain; 
And  then — good  day. 

How  brief  life  seems  I 
And  hope's  delight 

Ends  but  in  dreams; 
And  then — good  night ! 


SELF    RELIANCE 

— Victor   Hugo. 

THE  bough  bends  low  beneath  the  bird; 
But  he  serenely  swings, 
By  storm  and  swaying  branch  unstirred — 
Knowing  that  he  hath  wings. 

122 


THE  FEET  OF  CLAY 

'    A   LAS  !  my  feet  are  clay !"    Yes — but  refined 
^~X  From  common  earth  and  freed  from  soil's  access- 
Compounded  with  sweet  memories — combined 

With  steadfastness  and  quick  responsiveness — 
Rare,  priceless  clay.     But  have  you  never  thought 

That  it  is  from  this  self-same,  earthy  clay 
The  statue's  first  embodiment  was  wrought? 
Love's  chiseled  perfectness,  in  this  same  way, 
Is  modeled  in  the  clay,  with  tears  and  sighs, 
Before  it  finds  its  niche  in  Paradise. 


"AND  KEEP  THE  DOOR  AJAR!" 

DEAR  friend,  the  door  will  be  ajar — 
Will  ever  be  ajar  to  you; 
There  never  shall  be  bolt  nor  bar 
When  your  desire  and  presence  sue. 

So  close  is  your  companionship — 

Closer  than  hands,  nearer  than  breath- 
Its  goal,  life's  vistas  must  outstrip, 
And  I  shall  want  you  after  death. 

If  first  I  reach  the  Heavenly  Gate, — 
Love's  promised  blessing  to  renew, 

I  shall  but  ask  that  I  may  wait, 
And  keep  the  door  ajar — for  you. 

123 


BEYOND  THE  WALL 

A  ROSE-TREE  in  our  garden  grew, 
And  spread  its  branches  far  and  wide; 
It  overtopped  the  wall,  and  threw 
Some  clusters  on  the  other  side. 

So  in  our  heart  love's  roses  bloom, 
Whose  fragrance  ever  dearer  grows; 

Our  garden  holds  the   same  perfume, 
E'en  though  we  cannot  see  the  rose. 

Mourn  not  the  loved  no  longer  seen, 

For  love  is  not  beyond  recall ! 
Though  thought  may  never  pierce  the  screen, 

That  love  blooms  just  beyond  the  wall. 


124 


IF  HEARTS  ARE  DUST 

IF  hearts  are  dust,  heart's  loves  remain, 
And  somewhere,  far  above  the  plane 
Of  earthly  thought — beyond  the  sea 
That  bounds  this  life,  they  will  meet  thee, 
And  hold  thee  face  to  face  again. 

And  when  is  done  life's  restless  reign, 
If  I  hereafter  but  regain 

Heart's  love,  why  should  I  troubled  be, 
If   Hearts   are   dust? 

By    love's    indissoluble    chain, 

I  know  the  grave  does  not  retain 

Heart's  love ;  the  very  faith  in  me 

Is  pledge   of   an   eternity, 
Where  I  shall  find  heart's  love  again, 
If  hearts   are   dust. 


125 


LIFE  MAY  HAVE  NEED  OF  DEATH 

INTO  the  ground  earth's  seed  is  shed ; 
But  does  it  die?    Within  its  husk 

There  is  a  living  wraith 
That  hovers  round  its  resting  place, 

And  keeps  alive  its  prototype. 
Into  the  ground  are  laid  our  dead, 
Away  from  life,  into  the  dusk 

Of  memory  and  faith — 
Torn  from  affection's  fond  embrace, 
As  though  a  fruitage  still  unripe. 

Behind  the  husk,  behind  the  human  cell, 
Which   only  are  a   mundane  heritance, 
There  is  a  something  still  alive — 

Alive  with  independent  thought  and  will 

Begotten  not  of  earth; 
May  not  this  living  germ  within  the  shell, 
That    shapes    its    growth    with    neither    whim    nor 

chance — 

If  such  successive  ripenings  survive — 
Hint  an  immortal  purpose  to  fulfill, 
That  needs  another  birth? 

Take  hope,  O  doubting  Soul !    The  buried  seed, 
For  all  its  pledge  of  life  and  of  rebirth, 
Cannot  release  its  vital,  pregnant  thought 
Within  the  spirit  rife, 


126 


Till  death  resolve  its  cerements  to  earth. 

May  it  not  be,  as  nature  now  hath  wrought, 
Our  wistful,  earth-imprisoned  soul  may  need 
The  kindly,  helpful  hand  of  Death,  to  lead 
Unto  that  larger  life? 


HOPE 


IS  ever  happiness  content, 
Though  joy  be  given  its  fullest  scope? 
Beyond  every  accomplishment 
Must  be  another  hope. 

II 
Every  hope  is  prophecy  of  Heaven, 

Laughs  at  bonds  and  bars  before  it  spread, 
Looking  fondly  for  fulfillment,  even 

After  all  expectancy  has  fled. 


127 


HOLD  THOU  MY  HANDS 

HOLD  thou  my  hands  a  little  while  in  thine, 
Thy  gentle,  restful  hands,  dear  love  benign! 
Smooth  out  their  weariness  with  soft  caress, 
As  mothers  do  their  children's  restlessness, 
With  fondling  hands  that  love  and  rest  combine! 

And  when  these  inconsistent  hands  of  mine 
To  wayward  selfishness  and  wrong  incline, 
In  tender  and  compassionate  duress, 
Hold  thou  my  hands ! 

And  when  I  face  the  dark,  and  must  resign 
Love's  tender,  human  touch;  must  disentwine 

Its  dear,  detaining  clasp;  when  fears  depress — 
Those  mortal  fears  I  cannot  quite  repress 
For  all  my  faith  and  trust — O  Love  divine, 
Hold  Thou  my  hands  ! 


128 


EVENTIDE 

Zechariah  XIV.  7. 

AT  eventide  there  shall  be  light." 
Why  should  I  ever  fear  the  night? 
God's  love  and  constant  care  attest, 
He  will  not  suffer  me,  His  guest, 
To  thread  the  dark  without  a  light. 

The  light  of  life  is  love;  and  quite 
Content  am  I,  if  but  love  might 
Be  near,  when  I  lie  down  to  rest, 
At  eventide. 

And  love,  if  we  but  read  aright, 

Is  God,  who  is  the  Light  of  Light. 

What  fear  have  I  from  Love's  behest, 

When  Love  through  life  hath  made  me  blest? 

That,  Love,  I  trust  to  be  my  light, 
At  eventide. 


129 


THE  CALLING  VOICES 

THE  world  of  beauty  calleth  me ! 
I  hear  the  far-off  forest's  organ  notes; 
I  hear  the  softer  music  of  the  bees; 
I  see  the  pageant  of  the  clouds,  like  boats 

Adrift  upon  aerial,  shoreless  seas; 
I  feel  the  solemn  grandeur  of  the  hills, 
The  rapturous  enchantment  of  the  rills, 

The  ceaseless  witchery  of  flowers  and  trees. 

The  world  of  friendship  calleth  me! 
Love  may  a  larger  happiness  impart; 

For  though  the  heart  of  nature  brings  repose, 
The  sense  of  nearness  to  the  human  heart 

Gives  greater  joy  than  forest,  hill  or  rose; 
It  every  need  and  longing  satisfies, 
Unlocks  the  golden  gate  of  Paradise, 

And  immortality  on  life  bestows. 

The  world  of  fancy  calleth  me  I 

If  beauty  and  heart's  love  have  taken  flight, 

Then  in  the  peace  of  my  own  soul  I  hide, 
And  seek  upon  imagination's  height, 

In  gladness  and  contentment  to  abide, 
And  out  of  hope,  desire  and  memory, 
And  visions  of  a  waiting  Arcady, 

A  secret  palace  of  delight  provide. 


no 


The  world  beyond  is  calling  me! 

But  over  joy  and  earthly  love  and  dream, 

When  gleams  and  glimpses  fill  the  opal  west, 
There  stretches  a  new  radiance — a  beam 

That  makes  a  path  unto  Love's  perfect  rest. 
The  twilight  slowly  deepens  into  night, 
And  I,  serene,  await  the  Morning  Light, 

When  life  shall  find  fulfillment  of  its  quest. 


SUNSET 

THE  sun  sinks  low,  and  the  shadow 
Steals  slowly  across  my  heart; 
But  we  shall  meet  in  the  Morning, 
And  never  more  shall  part. 


131 


L'ENVOI 

MOTHER  leaf  in  life's  mysterious  book 
To-day  is  turned.    O  friend  beloved,  I  leave 
With  you  these  humble  flowers  to  mark  the  page, 
And  haply  give  a  perfume  to  the  place, 
Which  shall  add  fragrance  unto  all  its  leaves. 

That  I  might  share  -with  you  the  exquisite 
Delight  that  memory  brings,  I've  sought  to  lay 
Upon  these  pages  nuances  of  tint 
And  color,  to  enliven  hope — with  here 
And  there  a  study  of  life's  meaning,  worked 
Sometimes  in  smiles,  sometimes  in  tears — if  they 
Might  wake  long-silent  chords  of  joy  within 
Your  heart,  recapture  your  far-wandering  thoughts, 
And  lead  them  back  to  Arcady — and  me. 


132 


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